£%£  LABOR 
MOVEMENT 


Frank  Tannenbaum. 


LIBRARY 

University   ol   C.M«rt« 

IRVINE, 


The  Labor  Movement 

Its  Conservative  Functions  and 
Social  Consequences 


By 

Frank  Tannenbaum 


G.   P.    Putnam's   Sons 

New    York    and    London 

TCbe  Imtcfeerbocher  press 
1921 


Copyright,  1921 

by 
Frank  Tannenbaum 

Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


THIS  BOOK 

Is  HUMBLY  DEDICATED 
TO 

JOHN  DEWEY 


PUBLISHERS'  NOTE 

MR.  TANNENBAUM  has  produced  an  account 
of  the  purposes  and  methods  of  the  Unions 
which  is  written  with  authoritative  knowledge 
and  which  gives  information  of  distinctive  interest 
and  value.  His  monograph  is  restricted  to  the 
presentation  of  the  advantages  secured  by  union 
organizations  in  the  larger  matters  of  the  pro- 
tection of  the  rights  and  the  furthering  of  the  wel- 
fare of  the  members.  He  points  out  also  the  value  of 
the  organization  in  developing  among  the  unionized 
workers  a  social  relation,  and  in  so  doing,  in  further- 
ing their  development  and  education. 

The  organization  of  the  Labor  Unions  is,  as  is 
now  generally  admitted,  desirable,  not  to  say  essen- 
tial, for  the  purpose  of  protecting  and  furthering 
the  rightful  interest  of  the  workers,  or  at  least  of 
that  portion  of  the  workers  which  is  prepared  to 
accept  membership  in  the  Union.  It  is  further 
desirable  as  giving  means  by  which  agreements  can 
be  made  and  negotiations  carried  on  between  the  em- 
ployed and  the  employers. 

Mr.  Tannenbaum's  study  presents  only  the  favor- 
able aspects  of  the  purposes  and  the  results  of  the 


vi  PUBLISHER'S  NOTE 

Unions  of  organized  labor.  The  book,  while  sug- 
gestive and  valuable,  would,  we  believe,  have  been 
more  complete  if  the  author  had  seen  his  way  to 
discuss  the  following  matters  which  seem  to  many 
people  outstanding  characteristics  of  the  labor 
movement  as  the  public  knows  it. 

1.  Under  the  Constitution,  all  citizens  have  a 
guaranty  of  equality  before  the  law,  and  it  is  the 
theory  of  the  Constitution  that  no  class  or  group  of 
citizens  shall  be  able  to  secure  special  privileges. 
One  instance  of  such  contention  on  their  part  is  their 
refusal  to  accept  incorporation.      If,   therefore,   a 
Union  commits  a  breach  of  law, — and  there  are  too 
many  instances  of  such  breaches, — proceedings  can 
be  taken  only  against  individual  members. 

A  further  evidence  of  the  policy  of  the  Unions  of 
maintaining  special  privileges  was  their  success  in 
securing,  in  the  act  appropriating  money  for  judi- 
ciary proceedings,  a  provision  that  no  such  money 
should  be  utilized  for  proceedings  affecting  the 
Unions. 

2.  The  frequent  failure  of  the  Unions  to  give 
any  cooperation  to  the  authorities  for  the  tracing 
of  crime  and  for  bringing  penalties  to  bear  upon 
criminals  whose  work  has  been  done  under  the  direc- 
tion of  organized  labor,  or  for  the  purpose  of  for- 
warding some  immediate  aim  of  organized  labor. 
There  are  innumerable  instances  of  a  policy  of  ter- 
rorism and  of  criminal  action  from  the  time  of  the 
blowing  up  of  the  Los  Angeles  Times  to  the  present 
day,  and  we  can  find  no  instance  on  record  of  ac- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  authorities  of  the  Union  to 


PUBLISHER'S  NOTE  vii 

expel  or  even  to  reprimand  a  member  for  criminal 
activity. 

3.  The  Constitution  guarantees  to  every  citizen 
equal  protection  under  the  law.    The  Union  claims 
the  right  to  prevent  fellow  citizens  who  prefer  not 
to   accept   membership    in   the   organization,    from 
carrying  on  work,  that  is  to  say  from  getting  a  liveli- 
hood, and  this  claim  has  too  often  been  maintained 
by  force,  by  the  breaking  of  heads  or  assaults  of 
other  kinds. 

4.  The  community  further  criticizes  the  policy 
which    has    been    increasingly   manifested    by   the 
Unions  for  diminishing  output.    It  is  the  insistence 
of  the  Unions  that  the  standard  of  work  shall  be 
kept  to  that  of  the  laziest,  or  most  ineffective  work- 
er.    They  refuse  to  permit  for  the  industrious  or 
skilled  worker  the  advantage  of  the  additional  pro- 
duct that  he  is  able  to  complete.    It  is  a  well  estab- 
lished fact  that  since  the  reduction  of  the  hours  of 
the  working  day,  the  output  per  hour  has  in  many 
trades   been   materially   lessened.      This   has   been 
measured,  for  instance,  specifically  in  such  an  indus- 
try as  the  laying  of  bricks. 

It  is  to  be  hoped  that  in  some  future  volume,  a 
writer  who  has,  as  Mr.  Tannenbaum  has,  first-hand 
knowledge  of  the  methods  of  Union  organizations, 
and  is  in  substantial  sympathy  with  the  legitimate 
purposes  of  these  organizations  will  be  ready  to  put 
before  the  public  a  consideration  of  these  issues  be- 
tween the  Unions  and  the  community. 

G.  H.  P. 

April  20,  1921. 


The  Publishers'  note  and  the  book  which  follows 
represent  differences  of  opinion,  "G.  H.  P."  and  the 
author  agreeing  to  disagree. 

F.  T. 


FOREWORD 

THIS  is  neither  a  prophecy  nor  a  religion.  It  is  a 
description.  It  is  an  analysis  of  the  labor  move- 
ment and  an  idea  about  its  outcome.  But  ideas, 
"notions,  theories,  systems,  no  matter  how  elaborate 
and  self-consistent  they  are  must  be  regarded  as 
hypotheses.  They  are  to  be  accepted  as  basis  of 
actions  which  test  them,  not  as  finalities.  To  per- 
ceive this  fact  is  to  abolish  rigid  dogmas  from  the 
world.  It  is  to  recognize  that  conceptions,  theories, 
and  systems  of  thought  are  always  open  to  develop- 
ment through  use.  It  is  to  enforce  the  lesson  that 
we  must  be  on  the  lookout  quite  as  much  for  in- 
dications to  alter  them  as  for  opportunities  to 
assert  them.  They  are  tools.  As  in  the  case  of  all 
tools,  their  value  resides  not  in  themselves  but  in 
their  capacity  to  work  shown  in  the  consequence 
of  their  use."1 

I  quote  this  passage  so  that  it  will  not  be  as- 
sumed that  the  kind  of  community  suggested  as  the 
consequence  of  the  growth  of  the  labor  movement 

1  John  Dewey,  "Reconstruction  in  Philosophy,"  Henry  Holt 
&  Co.,  N.  Y.,  1920,  p.  145. 

xi 


xii  FOREWORD 

is  presented  as  an  absolute  and  definitely  predictable 
type.  The  labor  movement  is  obviously  on  its  way 
and  this  book  attempts  to  indicate  where  it  is  seem- 
ingly going  to  come  out.  But  the  only  thing  I  am 
committed  to  is  the  process  and  the  reconstruction 
which  it  is  imposing  upon  the  world.  I  am  not 
sworn  to  a  particular  outcome — simply  because  the 
facts  and  the  forces  are  too  numerous  for  anyone 
to  describe  in  detail  the  particular  form  of  social 
organization  and  insist  upon  that  as  a  frozen,  un- 
changing and  immutable  pattern.  As  a  matter  of 
faith  I  am  willing  to  accept  the  world  the  labor 
movement  is  fashioning — because  I  have  to  accept 
it  and  because  I  think  it  is  going  to  be  a  better  world 
than  the  one  I  know  at  present — even  if  it  does  not 
fit  every  detail  of  the  picture  drawn  in  this  book. 
It  may  be  argued  that  I  have  seen  only  those 
things  in  the  labor  movement  that  I  wanted  to  see. 
That  would  not  be  true.  I  am  not  unaware  of  the 
shortcomings  of  the  labor  movement.  I  know  but 
too  well  its  frequent  narrow-mindness,  its  bicker- 
ings, its  squabbles,  its  internal  politics,  its  lack  of 
social  foresight,  its  jurisdictional  disputes,  and  the 
tendencies  that  have  made  possible  the  New  York 
City  building  scandals.  I  have  described  what 
seemed  to  me  to  be  the  significant  and  meaningful 
facts  and  forces  in  the  labor  movement.  That  does 
not  mean  that  I  am  blind  to  opposing  more  destruc- 
tive and  less  social  elements  than  those  which  I 
have  considered.  Simply  they  do  not  seem  to  me 
as  important  or  as  deeply  ingrained  in  the  character 
of  the  labor  movement.  The  process  of  social  re- 


FOREWORD  xiii 

building  which  is  going  on  carries  with  itself  a 
certain  amount  of  waste — and  it  is  the  waste  which 
people  are  mostly  conscious  of  when  they  think  of 
the  labor  movement.  It  must  be  remembered  that 
even  in  the  construction  of  an  ordinary  building, 
the  most  skilled  craftsmen  litter  the  neighborhood 
with  obstructions  and  with  wasted  materials.  So 
with  the  labor  movement — excepting  that  the  crafts- 
men are  learning  their  craft  while  building  the 
structure,  and  that  the  materials  are  not  only  in- 
stitutions which  are  being  shed  and  rebuilt  but 
human  beings  who  are  being  molded  in  a  crucible 
that  is  socializing  the  unsocial  and  creating  the 
motives  and  ideals  essential  to  a  cooperative  game 
where  the  substratum  and  material  is  competitive. 
Amongst  the  criticisms  of  those  who  have  read 
the  manuscript  are  two  which  seem  to  me  most 
significant.  One  is  that  it  is  an  optimistic  book, 
that  I  am  very  hopeful  about  human  nature.  I 
plead  guilty  to  that  charge.  Having  seen  in  con- 
siderable numbers  those  who  are  considered  bad  and 
unsocial  by  the  community  (I  mean  the  men  in 
prisons),  and  found  them  good,  kindly  and  self- 
sacrificing  when  given  the  proper  opportunity  to 
be  so,  I  must  insist  on  the  legitimacy  of  faith  in 
those  average  and  normal  men  and  women  who  are 
the  constant  boast  of  the  American  community. 
The  other  criticism  is  that  I  have  painted  a  static 
picture.  That  I  show  the  labor  movement  achieving 
a  certain  social  organization  and  do  not  suggest 
that  it  must  of  necessity  move  on  because  nothing 
stands  still.  The  only  answer  I  have  is  that  what  I 


xiv  FOREWORD 

have  done  is  to  attempt  to  describe  a  moving  force 
re-creating  our  social  organization  and  achieving  a 
distinctly  new  pattern.  I  stop  with  the  pattern  that 
I  can  see,  because  I  cannot  see  beyond  it.  That 
does  not  mean  that  there  will  be  no  beyond.  It 
simply  means  that,  so  far  as  I  can  see  at  present, 
the  future  beyond  the  future  has  not  revealed  itself. 
The  book  is  static  in  the  sense  that  it  describes  a 
definite  outcome — a  photograph  at  the  moment  of 
arrival  and  nothing  more.  The  reader  is  invited 
to  disagree  to  his  heart's  content. 

F.  T. 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

1WISH  to  express  my  thanks  to  many  friends  for 
their  kind  help  in  the  preparation  of  this  volume. 
However,  I  am  well  aware  that  I  can  mention  only 
a  small  number  of  those  who  have  been  of  assist- 
ance, chiefly  because  one  does  not  always  know,  or 
remember,  the  influences  which  have  contributed 
most  to  the  molding  of  one's  thought.  I  must  be- 
gin by  acknowledging  the  great  debt,  both  spiritual 
and  intellectual,  which  I  owe  to  the  "Spittoon  Phi- 
losopher" of  the  I.  W.  W.,  a  remarkable  group  of 
keen  men  and  women,  mostly  young,  whom  to  know 
and  love  was  a  great  privilege.  Nowhere  have  I 
found  more  social-mindedness,  more  love  of  one's 
fellow  men,  more  disinterested  striving  for  making 
the  world  a  better  place  to  live  in. 

I  wish  to  record  my  debt  of  gratitude  to  the  many 
friends  and  teachers  at  Columbia  University,  whose 
interest,  inspiration,  and  encouragement  have 
proved  a  great  joy.  To  a  few  of  these  who  read  the 
manuscript  and  by  criticism  and  helpful  suggestions 
have  contributed  to  the  making  of  this  book,  especial 
thanks  are  due :  to  Professor  Carlton  J.  H.  Hayes 
for  numerous  suggestions ;  to  Professor  B.  B.  Ken- 
drick  for  suggesting  the  writing  of  the  first  chapter; 

XV 


xvi  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

to  Professor  Austin  P.  Evans  for  help  with  the 
English ;  to  John  Herman  Randall  for  advising  the 
division  of  the  book  into  three  parts;  to  Professor 
Henry  R.  Seager  for  criticism  of  the  chapter  on 
Labor  Education ;  to  Professor  E.  R.  A.  Seligman ; 
and  particularly  to  Mr.  Mark  Van  Doren  for  revi- 
sion of  the  English. 

I  am  indebted  to  Dr.  Paul  Brissinden  of  the  De- 
partment of  Economics  at  New  York  University 
for  suggesting  a  rearrangement  of  the  material ;  to 
Dr.  Woolman  and  Professor  Kallen,  both  of  the 
New  School  of  Social  Research,  for  valuable  criti- 
cism of  the  discussion  of  incentive. 

Thanks  are  here  given  to  my  friends  and  fellow 
workers,  "Mother"  Jane  Roulstoun  and  Arturo 
Giovannittee  for  many  happy  disputatious  hours 
we  have  spent  over  some  of  the  problems  of  the 
book;  to  Mr.  Frank  Anderson  of  the  Bureau  of 
Industrial  Research,  and  to  Dr.  Dorothea  Scoville 
for  reading  the  proof;  to  Miss  Elma  Bloch  for 
helping  put  the  material  into  shape;  and  finally  to 
my  wife,  whose  interest  and  assistance  has  been  a 
constant  spur  to  carry  the  work  to  completion. 

I  must  add  that  I  alone  am  to  be  held  responsible 
for  the  shortcomings  of  opinion  and  the  plan  of  the 
book.  Its  virtues  are  due  to  the  assistance  of  many 
friends ;  its  faults  reflect  a  stubbornness  that  would 
not  be  shown  the  better  way. 

F.  T. 
June,  1921. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

PUBLISHERS'  NOTE       ......          v 

FOREWORD  ,  xi 

PART  I. 

CAUSES 

CHAPTER 

I. — INSECURITY 3 

II. — THE  CENTER  OF  GRAVITY       .       .         23 

III. — THE   FUNCTION    OF   THE   LABOR 

UNION 31 

IV. — LABOR  MOVEMENT  PSYCHOLOGY  .        45 

PART  II 
METHODS 
V. — THE  BREAK  OF  THE  CIRCLE    .       .        69 

VI. — THE    METHOD    OF    THE    LABOR 

MOVEMENT 81 

VII. — EDUCATIONAL  FUNCTION  OF  THE 

LABOR  MOVEMENT        ...        91 

VIII. — COMRADESHIP 105 

IX. — CONSERVATIVE    AND    RADICAL 

LABOR 113 

xvii 


xviii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

X. — INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT — 

I. — THE  DISTRICT  COUNCIL      .       126 
XI. — INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT — 

II. — THE  INDUSTRIAL  UNION     .       135 
XII. — INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT — 

III.— THE  NATIONAL  UNIT   .       .       143 
XIII.— WORK  AND  WAGES     ....       155 

XIV. — THE  CONSERVATIVE  FUNCTION  OF 

THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT      .       .       167 

PART  III 
CONSEQUENCES 

XV. — REMUNERATION          ....       179 
XVI. — THE  FUNCTION    OF    INDUSTRIAL 

GOVERNMENT          .      .      .      .       194 

XVII.— SOCIALIZATION  ....  209 

XVIII. — COOPERATION  AND  DISCIPLINE      .  218 

XIX. — PRODUCER  AND  CONSUMER     .       .  227 

XX. — LABOR  AND  EDUCATION    .       .      .  238 

XXI. — EDUCATIONAL  REORGANIZATION  249 


The  Labor  Movement 


PART  I 

Causes 


CHAPTER  I 

INSECURITY 

OUR  age  is  dynamic.  Social  forces  are  in  con- 
stant motion.  Change,  the  upsetting  of  old 
ideas,  struggles  to  formulate  new  ones,  are  the  dom- 
inant features  of  our  creative  life.  Never  before 
was  there  so  great  a  pressure  against  the  established, 
or  so  great  a  craving  for  the  new.  This  is  true  of 
all  social  phenomena.  Nowhere,  however,  is  it  so 
characteristic  as  in  industry.  Change  is  the  very 
life  of  industry  today.  New  methods,  new  pro- 
cesses, new  inventions,  new  markets,  new  fashions, 
new  fads,  new  discoveries  and  organizations  char- 
acterize the  greater  part  of  our  industrial  world. 
This  constant  change  is  reflected  in  our  commercial 
market  as  well  as  in  the  expansion  and  contraction 
of  our  industrial  activities.  In  contrasting  this  age 
with  those  which  have  preceded  it  we  are  impressed 
by  their  comparative  quiescence.  People  lived  in 
the  same  places,  did  the  same  kinds  of  work,  used 
the  same  tools,  wore  similar  styles  of  dress  for 
generation  after  generation  with  but  little  change. 
Centuries  of  accumulated  habit  and  custom  were 
evident  in  the  procedure  of  the  community. 

3 


4  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

Suddenly,  as  out  of  the  night,  a  number  of  cumu- 
lative tendencies  brought  a  change  to  this  quiet, 
slowly  moving,  and  fairly  self-sufficient  social  or- 
ganization. Society  was  torn  from  its  roots  and 
set  adrift  by  the  machine.  Dynamic  change  re- 
placed a  comparatively  static  condition  in  the  world 
through  the  unexpected  growth  of  large  factories, 
large  cities,  the  building  of  railways,  the  tunneling 
of  mountains,  the  spanning  of  rivers  with  mighty 
bridges,  the  breasting  of  the  tide  with  coal  and  oil- 
burning  ships,  the  invention  of  telegraphy,  tele- 
phones, air  ships,  and  the  automobile.  But  who 
can  enumerate  the  ten  thousand  changes  that  have 
been  wrought  in  the  life  of  the  community  in  the 
last  hundred  and  fifty  years?  A  miracle  happened 
in  the  night  and  the  world  is  dressed  in  different 
colors. 

This  sudden  expansion  of  energy,  this  develop- 
ment and  concentration  of  mechanical  power,  and 
this  awakening  of  interest  in  experimental  science 
stimulated  a  social  metamorphosis. 

Expansion  is  evidently  a  motive  in  all  of  our 
activities,  and  every  individual,  one  might  say,  has 
been  influenced  by  it.  Ambition  is  the  great  virtue 
of  the  age,  a  virtue  that  will  cover  many  vices.  Our 
age  forgives  almost  everything  to  the  successful 
man.  He  need  have  little  of  morals  and  less  of 
religion,  just  so  long  as  he  does  something.  What 
are  you  doing?  What  have  you  done?  What  are 
you  planning  ?  These  are  the  great  questions  which 
everyone  is  asked,  and  they  tell  a  tale  characteristic 
of  a  world.  This  sudden  loosening  of  human  forces, 


INSECURITY  5 

entrancing,  vivid,  and  wonderful  as  it  is,  has  other 
consequences  to  which  we  are  often  blind.  In 
exalting  the  achievements  of  the  machine  one  must 
not  forget  the  tale  of  suffering  and  hardship  that 
has  accompanied  it.  The  changes  so  insistently 
characteristic  of  mechanical  organization  mean  for 
the  community  an  ever-increasing  acquisition  of 
new  powers,  new  methods  and  new  things;  but  for 
the  great  mass  of  individuals  they  have  meant 
Insecurity. 

Every  change  means  a  change  for  somebody, 
every  new  machine  means  that  an  old  one  has  been 
displaced  and  that  for  an  old  craft,  an  old  trade, 
an  old  business,  an  old  habit,  has  been  substituted 
something  new.  Insecurity  is  the  dominant  fact 
in  the  lives  of  every  class  in  the  community;  no 
one  escapes  it.  The  rich  and  the  poor,  the  pro- 
fessional and  the  artisan,  the  mechanic  and  the 
gambler,  are  all  faced  by  the  possibility  of  in- 
security. Our  whole  industrial  organization  is 
dominated  by  the  price  market,  and  prices  constantly 
change.  Every  time  they  go  up  or  down  there  is  a 
corresponding  reaction  in  the  mechanical  organiza- 
tion that  lies  at  the  root  of  our  industrial  com- 
munity. These  changes  carry  with  them  contraction 
or  expansion  in  industry,  which  in  turn  mean  profit 
or  loss,  work  or  unemployment,  contracts  or  lack 
of  contracts,  the  power  to  meet  bills,  or  the  lack  of 
that  power.  The  fluctuating  market,  like  a  sea  that 
never  stands  still,  may  well  be  represented  as  a 
shifting  tide  that  works  to  undermine  the  ground 
on  which  the  individual  stands.  Competition  is  only 


6  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

one  evidence  of  this  fact  of  insecurity.  What  does 
competition  mean  if  not  the  effort  to  displace  an- 
other man  and  his  income?  This  continual  in- 
security has  given  our  age  peculiar  characteristics, 
one  of  them  being  an  excessive  interest  in  money. 
The  profit  motive  is  the  distinctive  feature  of  a 
competitive  age  because  profits,  or  money,  imply 
security.  Give  a  man  that  and  you  are  giving  him 
the  basis  of  practically  everything  else.  Land, 
houses,  honors,  pleasures,  dignities  and  position 
are  his  if  only  he  has  money.  This  is  reflected  at 
every  turn  of  our  lives.  How  much  are  you 
making?  What  does  the  job  pay?  Did  you  have  a 
good  year?  These  questions  have  come  to  mean: 
Did  you  have  a  profitable  year  in  terms  of  money? 
The  evidence  of  insecurity  is  beyond  question. 
It  is  neither  desirable  nor  possible  in  a  book  such 
as  this  to  compile  statistics  on  a  large  scale.  Even 
in  outline,  however,  enough  can  be  quoted  to  show 
the  evidence  at  hand  and  to  carry  the  conviction 
that  ours  is  an  age  of  insecurity  —  individual, 
economic  insecurity.  This  age  has  been  described 
as  one  of  skyscrapers,  automobiles,  newspapers, 
electricity,  or  as  one  of  large-scale  business,  of 
trusts,  while  by  those  holding  another  point  of  view 
it  has  been  called  the  age  of  political  democracy 
and  constitutional  freedom.  But  none  of  these 
descriptions  tells  the  tale  from  the  point  of  view  of 
the  individual.  For  him  this  is  the  age  of  in- 
security. If  anyone  undertakes  to  describe  the  last 
hundred  years  in  terms  of  what  it  has  meant  to  the 
individual  man  and  woman  he  will  have  to  tell  a 


INSECURITY  7 

story  of  worry,  doubt,  hesitancy,  sorrow  and  tribu- 
lation, centered  around  the  fact  of  individual 
economic  insecurity.  That  is  the  fact  in  the  life  of 
the  individual.  It  is  true  of  practically  everyone, 
but  it  applies  more  generally  and  in  its  most  trying 
form  to  the  worker. 

The  fact  that  insecurity  is  characteristic  of  all 
parts  of  the  community  finds  illustration  in  the 
failure  of  1,307  banks  in  the  United  States  during 
the  period  from  1900  to  1918.  In  the  year  1907 
alone  132  banks  were  thus  affected.  What  this 
means  is  that  thousands  of  men  and  women  all  over 
the  country  who  had  striven  to  save  something  for 
old  age,  for  sickness,  for  the  education  of  their 
children,  for  the  purpose  of  buying  a  home,  sud- 
denly found  themselves  insecure  in  the  sense  that 
there  was  very  little  indeed  between  themselves  and 
actual  want. 

Between  the  years  1900  and  1918  there  were 
259,048  commercial  failures  in  the  United  States! 
These  figures,  recorded  by  Dun,  represent  only  the 
larger  concerns  that  were  known  to  have  failed.1 
What  about  those  which  were  too  small  to  get  into 
Dun's?  How  many  thousands  or  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  small  concerns  such  as  soda-stands, 
grocery  stores,  bakeries,  electrical  supplies,  and 
other  innumerable  varieties  of  business  enterprises 
on  a  small  scale  go  out  of  business  every  year  and 
leave  nothing  but  a  heartache  behind  them — pain 
and  heartache,  but  not  a  syllable  in  Dun's?  What 

1  Figures  readily  accessible  in  "World"  Almanac  for  1920, 
p.  499. 


8  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

about  those  who  barely  escaped  failure?  Dun's 
does  not  say  anything  about  them.  There  is  no 
record  of  the  worry,  of  the  sleepless  nights,  of  the 
scramble  for  credit,  of  the  borrowing  amongst 
friends,  of  the  selling  of  valuables,  of  the  tears  and 
the  anguish  which  stood  between  the  endangered 
business  man  and  the  record  of  a  failure  in  Dun's. 
The  farmer,  traditionally  the  basis  of  stability, 
the  one  element  in  the  community  whose  independ- 
ence has  always  been  taken  for  granted,  is  also 
showing  evidence  of  insecurity.  The  census  of  1910 
showed  37  per  cent,  of  the  farms  were  tenanted.1 
A  tenant  farmer  is  an  insecure  person.  He  is  not 
like  the  manorial  serf  or  the  ancient  peasant  or  the 
present  day  owner  who  has  something  permanent. 
His  security  at  best  is  contractual.  Contracts,  how- 
ever, may  prove  impossible  of  fulfillment  and  the 
passing  days  bring  the  contract  to  an  end  and  that 
means  insecurity.  The  same  census  showed  that 
33.6  per  cent,  of  the  American  farms  were  mort- 
gaged. Now  a  mortgage  may  be  a  basis  of  credit 
for  better  operations,  but  it  is  also  an  evidence  of 
insecurity,  because  mortgages  may  be  foreclosed. 
This  means  that  70.6  per  cent,  of  American  farmers 
are  not  entirely  secure,  that  they  have  to  worry 
about  moving  off  the  land,  or  about  keeping  the 
mortgage  paid.  Sickness,  bad  crops,  fire,  any 
human  misfortune  would  in  this  cas_e  imply  the  pos- 
sibility that  the  ordinary  misfortune  could  be  made 
heavier  by  foreclosure  for  lack  of  payment.  These 
figures  do  not  include  the  mortgaged  farms  that  are 

'U.  S.  Census,  1910,  vol.  v,  pp.  102  and  158. 


INSECURITY  9 

rented  out,  and  there  are  bound  to  be  a  great  man)' 
of  these,  nor  do  they  include  the  farmer  who 
operates  on  shares.  There  is,  however,  sufficient 
evidence  of  the  fact  that  insecurity  has  invaded  the 
last  stronghold  of  social  stability — the  farming 
community. 

What  is  true  of  the  bank,  the  business  man  and 
the  farmer  is  also  true  of  the  professional  person. 
The  professional  has  no  security  of  tenure,  with 
the  possible  exception  of  the  teacher  and  civil  service 
employee.  Anyone  who  doubts  that  may  convince 
himself  by  examining  the  advertisements  in  the 
want  columns  of  the  large  newspapers.  He  will 
find  engineers,  chemists,  managers,  clerks  and  other 
professionals  advertising  for  jobs,  stating  their 
qualifications  and  references  and  offering  to  serve 
for  reasonable  pay.  The  numerous  agencies 
throughout  the  country  concerned  with  placing  pro- 
fessionals indicate  the  same  fact.  What  is  true  of 
the  professional  is  still  more  evident  of  the  ordinary 
clerical  help  in  an  office.  Stenographers,  book- 
keepers, file  clerks,  order  clerks,  bill  clerks,  time 
keepers  and  the  rest  of  the  office  paraphernalia 
change  very  often  indeed.  I  know  a  number  of 
stenographers  and  typists  and  yet  I  know  very  few 
.  of  these  who  have  remained  for  more  than  two 
years  in  the  same  place.  In  one  or  two  instances 
the  changes  have  taken  place  about  every  three 
months.  The  fault  may  not  be  entirely  with  the 
office,  but  the  fact  of  insecurity  for  the  individual 
is  there  none  the  less. 

However,   it  is  when  we  come  to  the  manual 


10  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

workers  that  this  insecurity  becomes  manifest  in  its 
full  significance.  The  worker's  relation  to  his  job 
is  determined  by  forces  which  he  does  not  control. 
It  is  the  amount  of  profit  his  employment  brings  to 
the  concern  which  determines  whether  he  is  going 
to  have  a  job  or  not.  The  employer  and  still  more 
the  employee,  are  both  tools  of  the  market.  This 
fact  was  strikingly  brought  out  by  the  Federal  In- 
vestigation of  1910  into  the  conditions  of  employ- 
ment in  the  iron  and  steel  industry.1  The  policy  as 
there  stated  is:  "To  operate  at  its  fullest  capacity 
during  active  demand,  then,  during  a  decline  in  the 
market  to  shut  down  completely  and  await  an  accu- 
mulation of  orders  or  development  of  better  prices." 
In  practice  this  meant  that  only  9.8  per  cent,  of 
the  workers  were  employed  from  forty-eight  to 
fifty-two  weeks,  25.4  per  cent. — forty  to  for- 
ty-four weeks,  2.5  per  cent. — twenty-eight  to 
thirty-two  weeks,  5.4  per  cent. — twenty-eight  weeks 
or  less. 

The  census  report*  on  unemployment  showed 
that  of  5,772,641  male  workers,  ten  years  of  age 
and  above,  engaged  in  manufacturing  and  mechan- 
ical pursuits,  1,631,057  or  28.2  per  cent,  were  un- 
employed at  some  time  during  the  year  1910,  and 
that  of  1,312,668  females,  ten  years  of  age  and 
above,  in  the  same  class  of  occupations,  294,346,  or 
22.4  per  cent,  were  out  of  work.  Thus  nearly  two 
million  workers,  27.2  per  cent.,  over  one  fourth  of 

1  Quoted    by    Lauck    and    Sydenstricker,    "Conditions    of 
Labor  in  American  Industries,"  New  York,  1917,  p.  152. 
*  Ibid.,  p.  111.     Summary  of  1900  census. 


INSECURITY  11 

the  total  engaged  in  manufacturing  in  1910  were 
thus  affected. 

In  the  coal  mining  industry  during  the  year  1913 
according  to  the  United  States  Geological  Survey, 
the  workers  in  Colorado  lost  117  days,  in  Illinois 
116,  in  Indiana  111,  in  Iowa  109,  in  Missouri  119, 
in  Ohio  100,  in  Oklahoma  109,  out  of  a  possible 
306  working  days  during  the  year,  owing  to  con- 
ditions in  the  industry.1  The  evidence  of  insecurity 
may  be  substantiated  in  various  ways.  Here  is  a 
picture  of  the  full  working  time  lost  in  twenty-one 
industries  according  to  a  report  of  the  United  States 
Immigration  Commission.1  In  1909  2  per  cent, 
of  the  workers  lost  nine  or  more  months'  full  work- 
ing time,  9.5  per  cent,  lost  six  months  or  more, 
18  per  cent,  lost  five  months,  20  per  cent,  lost  four 
months,  32  per  cent,  lost  three  months,  56.7  per  cent, 
lost  two  months.  This  is  striking  evidence  when 
we  remember  that  every  day  lost  is  a  day  without 
income  for  that  particular  individual,  and  also  a 
day  without  income  for  his  dependents. 

Even  among  organized  workers  unemployment  is 
a  constant  factor.  The  average  in  New  York  State 
for  the  following  organized  trades,  as  given  by  the 
unions,  1910 — 1914,  shows  that  the  building  and 
stone-workers  were  idle  28.2  per  cent,  of  the  work- 

1  Ibid.,  p.  85,  compiled  from  the  U.  S.  Geological  Survey 
in  1913,  p.  751.  "It  should  be  remembered,  however,  that  1913 
was  a  record  year  for  anthracite  workers  and  was  exceeded 
by  bituminous  miners  since  1890  in  only  three  years — 1898, 
1900,  and  1907." 

*  Ibid.,  p.  77.  Compiled  from  reports  of  the  U.  S.  Im- 
migration Commission,  vol.  20,  page  453. 


12  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

ing  days  of  the  year.  In  transportation  the  per- 
centage of  idle  days  was  11.1  per  cent.,  clothing  and 
textiles  33.1  per  cent.,  metal  machinery  16.7  per 
cent.,  printing  and  binding  6.7  per  cent.,  wood- 
working and  furniture  20.3  per  cent.,  food  and 
liquor  10.8  per  cent.,  tobacco  14.3  per  cent.,  restau- 
rant trade  7.1  per  cent.,  public  employment  1  per 
cent.,  stationary  engineers  2  per  cent.1 

The  causes  of  insecurity  vary  with  time  and  with 
industrial  conditions.  The  industrial  organization 
never  stands  still.  It  expands  or  contracts,  it  de- 
velops new  machinery  and  introduces  new  methods. 
All  of  these  elements  express  themselves  for  the 
worker  in  one  way — insecurity.  To  quote  a  famous 
passage  from  Beveridge :'  "Changes  in  industrial 
structure  are  constantly  recurring  and  constantly 
throwing  men  out  of  employment.  The  very  life 
and  growth  of  industry  consists  in  the  replacement 
of  old  machines  by  new,  of  established  processes  by 
better  ones ;  of  labor  in  one  form  and  combination 
by  labor  in  fresh  forms,  fresh  combinations.  The 
demand  for  labor  is  thus  in  a  state  of  flux  and  re- 
construction both  as  to  quality  and  quantity.  Men 
who  for  years  have  satisfied  the  demand  in  one  form 
may  find  the  form  suddenly  changed,  their  niche 
in  industry  broken  up;  their  hard  won  skill  super- 
fluous in  the  new  world,  themselves  also  superfluous 
unless  they  will  and  can  learn  arts  and  find  the  way 

*Ibid.,  p.  93.  Compiled  from  Bulletin  No.  69  of  New 
York,  Department  of  Labor. 

2  Beveridge,  "Unemployment,  A  Problem  of  Industry," 
p.  111. 


INSECURITY  13 

into  familiar  occupations.  They  are  displaced  by 
economic  forces  entirely  beyond  their  control  and 
taking  no  account  of  personal  merit." 

These  changes  of  form  and  place  in  industrial 
organizations  are  illustrated  by  the  following  sta- 
tistics.1 Between  the  years  of  1899  and  1909  the 
following  changes  in  the  working  population  took 
place  in  some  American  cities.  Troy,  New  York, 
lost  12.7  per  cent,  of  its  working  population;  Pitts- 
burgh, Pennsylvania  (men  only),  7.4  per  cent., 
Homestead,  Pennsylvania,  44.3  per  cent.,  Pensa- 
cola,  Florida,  20.3  per  cent.,  Savannah,  Georgia, 

15.6  per  cent.,   Hagerstown,   Maryland,   22.3   per 
cent.,   Charleston,   South  Carolina,    16.7  per  cent. 
In  the  four  years  from  1905  to  1909  Mobile,  Ala- 
bama, lost  5  per  cent.,  New  London,  Connecticut, 
12.9  per  cent.,  Lowell,  Massachusetts  (for  women), 

18.7  per  cent.     Every  one  of  these  figures  implies 
shifting,  going  from  one  job  and  one  place  to  an- 
other.      They  are  indications   of  the  search   for 
security — and  the  evidence  of  its  absence.     These 
figures  are  but  a  few  of  the  many  available.    They 
are  chosen  to  illustrate  the  fact  that  lies  at  the  root 
of  the  whole  social  problem — individual  economic 
insecurity.     If  some  cities  have  lost,  others  have 
gained,  but  individually  the  problem  of  loss  or  gain 
is  more  or  less  the  same. 

The  influence  of  machinery  is  illustrated  by  the 
following  from  the  New  York  State  Commission 
on  Employers'  Liability  and  Unemployment.  "In 

1  Lauck  and  Sydenstricker,  "Conditions  of  Labor  in  Amer- 
ican Industries,"  p.  124. 


14  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

the  five  years  between  the  manufacturing  censuses 
of  1900  and  1905  out  of  61  leading  industries  in  the 
State  of  New  York  nine  suffered  actual  decrease 
of  the  number  of  their  employees  which  might  be 
traced  to  the  introduction  of  machinery.  The  de- 
crease in  the  number  of  wage  earners  is  accom- 
panied by  an  increase  in  the  value  of  machinery, 
tools  and  equipment  employed."1  Here  are  some 
illustrative  figures.  Agricultural  implements  de- 
creased in  workers  employed  by  by  8.5  per  cent., 
and  increased  in  horse  power  per  wage  earner  25 
per  cent.  Iron  and  steel  blast  furnaces  lost  2.1  per 
cent,  of  the  workers  and  gained  41.5  per  cent,  in  its 
horse  power  per  worker.  Smelting  and  refining 
of  lead  lost  10.8  per  cent,  of  its  employees  and 
gained  52.7  per  cent,  in  horse  power  per  worker.* 
This  tendency  is  true  of  many  other  industries. 
Sufficient  statistics  have  already  been  cited  to  show 
that  in  those  particular  organizations  increase  in 
machinery  actually  meant  a  displacement  of  the 
working  force  to  a  considerable  degree,  and  the 
worker  has  of  course  no  control  over  the  inventive 
genius  in  any  industrial  community. 

The  character  of  the  industry  and  the  seasonal 
needs  of  particular  work  have  a  large  influence  upon 
insecurity.  Such  a  relatively  stable  concern  as  a 
department  store  would  seem  to  offer  regularity  of 
employment.  And  yet  statistics  for  Boston  depart- 
ment stores  show  that  only  a  small  portion  of  the 
force  remained  the  entire  year.  Those  who  worked 


id.,  p.  127—130,  quoted  from  Third  Report,  1911,  p.  44. 
'Ibid.,  p.  127. 


INSECURITY  15 

twelve  months  were  represented  by  occupation  as 
follows:  Saleswomen  18  per  cent.,  office  employees 
39.3  per  cent.,  counter  cashiers  and  examiners  15.3 
per  cent.,  messengers  and  bundlers  8.1  per  cent., 
alteration  workroom  5.9  per  cent.,  millinery  work- 
room 3.6  per  cent.,  stock  girls  14.5  per  cent.1  In 
other  industries  where  the  seasonal  factor  predomi- 
nates the  situation  is  very  much  worse.  Probably 
there  is  no  more  striking  example  of  extremely 
seasonal  industries  than  those  to  be  found  in  Cali- 
fornia. While  the  average  number  of  employees 
in  canning  was  for  instance  in  1909,  7,757,  the 
maximum  was  160,667  in  August  and  the  minimum 
2,781  in  February.* 

Recent  studies  in  the  labor  turnover  made  for 
the  United  States  Department  of  Labor  show  that 
an  extremely  heavy  percentage  of  men  and  women 
do  not  remain  in  the  same  employment  for  any 
length  of  time.  The  proportion  of  those  who  work 
for  a  full  year  is  in  some  cases  so  small  as  to  be 
negligible.  These  studies  have  included  such  places 
as  Chicago,  St.  Louis,  Milwaukee,  California  and 
such  varied  industries  as  mining,  meat  packing, 
water  transportation,  brass  foundries,  and  depart- 
ment stores.  In  spite  of  the  wide  variation  in  in- 
dustries studied  and  the  different  parts  of  the  coun- 
try included  the  results  are  very  much  alike.  On 
three  passenger  ships  on  the  Great  Lakes  the  crew 

1  Ibid.,  p.  99.  "Compiled  from  Second  Annual  Report  of 
Massachusetts  Minimum  Work  Commission,  p.  124.  The 
statistics  exclude  all  employed  for  less  than  a  month  during 
the  year." 

'Ibid.,  p.  150. 


16  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

turnover  was  found  to  be  such  that  72.8  per  cent, 
of  working  force  worked  about  thirty  days.  The 
rate  of  turnover  per  1,000  for  coal  passers  was 
1,787.5;  for  assistant  cooks  1,550;  for  pantrymen 
1,250  and  so  on  for  many  branches  of  the  service.1 
In  eleven  large  and  varied  establishments  in  Chicago 
16  per  cent,  of  the  working  force  worked  less  than 
one  week;  12  per  cent,  worked  from  one  to  two 
weeks,  14  per  cent,  worked  from  two  weeks  to  a 
month;  23  per  cent,  worked  from  one  month  to 
three  months.  That  is,  44  per  cent,  of  these  workers 
worked  less  than  one  month;  67  per  cent,  worked 
less  than  three  months.  One  of  these,  a  car  build- 
ing concern,  had  a  labor  turnover  of  moulders  of 
363  per  cent;  laborers  542  per  cent.,  riveters  630 
per  cent.  In  a  brass  specialties  concern  33  per  cent, 
were  displaced  the  first  week,  57  per  cent,  the  first 
month,  71  per  cent,  the  first  three  months.  To  put 
these  figures  in  a  somewhat  different  form  we  have 
the  fact  that  a  concern  with  a  working  force  of 
14,320  hired  32,374  during  the  year.  A  concern 
with  8,730  hired  19,050,  one  with  a  regular  force 
of  5,219  hired  20,014,  one  with  5,092  hired  12,792, 
one  with  7,287  had  to  hire  18,837  and  one  with 
258  hired  2,105.'  This  fact  in  a  similar  form 
was  found  to  be  true  of  the  two  California  oil 
refining  concerns  studied  for  their  labor  turnover. 
"Of  the  two  refineries  'B'  hired  1,141  men  to  keep 
420  positions  filled.  At  refinery  'A'  3,067  men  had 

1  Emil  Frankel  in  the  Monthly  Labor  Review  of  the  U.  S. 
Department  of  Labor  for  June  18,  1919. 
'Ibid. 


INSECURITY  17 

to  be  hired  to  keep  965  jobs  in  the  plant."  "In  re- 
finery 'A'  222  out  of  420  people  who  constituted  the 
full  working  force  left  during  their  first  week  of 
employment,  172  during  their  second  week,  181 
during  the  first  month;  206  during  the  first  three 
months.  Figures  for  these  two  refineries  show  that 
93  per  cent,  of  one  and  87  per  cent,  of  the  other 
had  quitted  the  service  in  less  than  one  year."  * 
These  figures  here  quoted  could  be  multiplied  at 
length  for  many  other  industries  which  have  been 
studied  and  where  the  conditions  are  practically  the 
same.  The  fact  that  these  figures  represent  fairly 
large  industries  does  not  materially  alter  the  situ- 
ation. Our  manufacturing  work  is  done  in  concerns 
that  have  shown  a  tendency  to  grow  larger  as  the 
years  pass.  In  smaller  industries  similar  conditions 
seem  to  prevail.  In  the  restaurant  to  which  I  am 
in  the  habit  of  going  I  have  observed  that  there  have 
been  six  new  waiters  in  four  months — and  the  place 
has  only  one  waiter  at  a  time.  This  is  illustrative 
of  many  other  occupations. 

The  existence  of  insecurity  as  a  dominating  fact 
in  the  life  of  the  individual  can  hardly  be  disputed 
in  the  light  of  the  evidence  at  hand.  I  will  add 
just  a  few  more  facts  regarding  some  of  its  mani- 
festations. Having  a  home  is  a  human  tradition. 
Generation  upon  generation  of  security  and  stability 
of  place  have  left  a  powerful  memory  of  the  home 
in  the  minds  of  our  people.  Our  sweetest  songs, 

1  P.  F.  Brissenden,  "Labor  Turnover  in  California  Oil 
Refining."  U.  S.  Dept.  of  Labor,  Monthly  Labor  Review 
for  April,  1919. 


18  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

our  most  idealistic  literature,  our  best  traditions  are 
built  about  the  home — the  center  of  love,  labor  and 
cheer.  And  yet  for  many  of  our  working  people 
the  home  has  disappeared.  They  have  become 
strangers  to  the  dearest  and  most  cherished  ideal 
of  the  ages.  "Approximately  three  fourths  of 
American-born  wage  earners  live  in  rented  houses. 
.  .  .  The  most  complete  available  data  indicate 
that  less  than  15  per  cent,  of  Greeks,  Hebrews, 
Portuguese,  Rumanians,  Lithuanians,  Russians, 
Servians,  Syrians,  South  Italians  and  Magyar  im- 
migrants in  industrial  localities  are  owners  of 
homes.  .  .  .  With  very  few  exceptions  as  to  race 
the  great  majority  of  workingmen's  families  are 
not  owners  of  their  own  homes."  * 

"In  Paterson,  New  Jersey,  one-fifth  of  the  silk 
weavers'  families  own  their  own  homes.  .  .  .  Prac- 
tically all  textile  workers  in  Lawrence,  Massachu- 
setts, were  found  living  in  rented  tenements  accord- 
ing to  the  Federal  Bureau  of  Labor  report  for 
1912."  Approximately  90  per  cent,  of  the  steel 
workers'  families  in  the  Birmingham,  Alabama, 
district  lived  in  rented  houses  according  to  the  re- 
port of  the  Immigration  Commission.  Less  than 
one  half  of  one  per  cent,  of  workers  own  their  own 
homes  in  the  tenement  district  in  New  York  City. 
Only  4.4  per  cent,  of  the  workers  in  Boston  and  7.4 
per  cent,  in  Philadelphia  are  home  owners.2 

Not  only  do  the   workers  not  own  their  own 

1  Lauck    and     Sydenstricker,     "Conditions    of    Labor    in 
American  Industry,"     pp.  303 — 304. 
•Ibid.,  pp.  304—305. 


INSECURITY  19 

homes  but  a  great  many  of  them  do  not  even  keep 
a  family  establishment.  "That  approximately  a 
third  of  the  workingmen's  families  in  industrial 
localities  and  slightly  less  than  that  proportion  of 
workingmen's  families  in  larger  population  centers 
are  unable  to  maintain  a  separate  family  existence 
appears  to  be  a  warrantable  conclusion  from  a  study 
of  nearly  30,000  typical  households.  Among  the 
families  of  native  white  Americans  the  proportion 
is  about  10  to  12  per  cent.,  while  among  newer 
immigrant  families  the  proportion  is  very  much 
higher."  The  percentage  of  women  workers  in 
factories  and  department  stores  who  are  "adrift" 
in  some  of  the  larger  cities  and  do  not  live  at  home 
was  found  to  be  as  follows:  Boston  61.1  per  cent., 
Chicago  36.7  per  cent.,  Minneapolis  and  St.  Paul 
46.2  per  cent.,  St.  Louis  47.4  per  cent.  In  Boston 
56.6  per  cent,  of  these  women  lived  in  boarding  or 
lodging  houses.1 

The  social  consequences  of  insecurity  is  apalling. 
They  cannot  be  stated  in  statistical  form.  The  great 
sorrows,  troubles  and  worries  which  occupy  so  large 
a  place  in  the  community  because  of  the  possibilities 
of  economic  insecurity  are  not  to  be  described. 
They  carry  with  them  warped  and  narrowed  souls 
whose  greed  and  selfishness,  whose  fear  for  the  mor- 
row and  whose  love  for  gain  have  combined  to  make 
them  unsocial.  Men  are  often  ready  to  undertake 
any  occupation  to  stave  off  insecurity — or  just  to 
add  to  their  financial  gains  because  the  habit  of 
evaluating  life  in  terms  of  money  has  become  a 

'Lauck  and  Sydenstricker,  op.  cit.,  p.  295. 


20  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

daily  procedure.  Crime,  misery  and  sorrow  are  fed 
and  maintained  to  a  very  large  degree  indeed  by  this 
constant  pressure  of  insecurity.  Its  economic  and 
physical  consequences  may  be  stated  in  some  form — 
but  never  in  full.  "Poverty,"  by  Hunter,  is  one  way 
of  stating  it;  "Darkest  England,"  by  Booth,  is 
another.  But  fairly  current  examples  of  it  are  near 
at  hand.  In  San  Francisco  one  half  of  7,000  appli- 
cants for  jobs  at  the  Cooperative  Employment 
Bureau  were  incapacitated  for  work  from  lack  of 
nourishment  from  disease  and  exposure.  "In  1913- 
1914  San  Francisco,  Los  Angeles  and  Sacramento 
each  had  thousands  of  these  migratory  workers, 
from  ten  to  forty  per  cent,  being  destitute.  .  .  .  The 
same  conditions  were  found  to  be  true  also  of  the 
Middle  West  and  in  the  East,  not  simply  because  of 
seasonal  industries  but  also  amongst  those  most  in- 
dependent of  season."  l 

At  the  present  writing  the  situation  is  fairly 
stable.  Employment  is  general  and  economic  con- 
ditions are,  if  not  entirely  satisfactory,  at  least  not 
panicky.  However,  there  are  rumors  in  the  air. 
Men  are  afraid  of  their  jobs.  Prices  are  falling 
and  the  market  is  not  entirely  satisfactory.  It  seems 
also  that  credits  are  being  drawn  in.  It  may  be 
that  a  period  of  economic  depression  is  at  hand. 
The  very  possibility  of  it  has  already  set  innumer- 
able people  to  worrying,  to  fearing,  to  hoarding. 
Insecurity  is  staring  them  in  the  face — and  they 
tremble  for  their  savings. 

In  1914  the  author  had  occasion  to  come  into 

JLauck  and  Sydenstricker,  op.  cit.,  p.  173. 


INSECURITY  21 

close  contact  with  the  unemployed  in  New  York 
City.  He  remembers  seeing  men  pick  bread  out  of 
garbage  barrels  and  wash  it  under  a  street  pump  so 
that  it  might  be  fit  to  eat.  Thousands  of  men  slept 
in  the  parks,  sitting  closely  huddled  together  with 
their  collars  drawn  up,  their  hands  in  their  pockets 
and  heads  tucked  in  to  keep  as  warm  as  the  con- 
ditions permitted.  Men  slept  closely  packed  like 
herrings  on  the  space  in  front  of  the  Herald  Square 
Building  covering  themselves  with  newspapers.  In 
a  certain  church  house  which  the  author  visited, 
they  sat  up  all  night,  not  being  allowed  to  fall 
asleep.  Insecurity  is  a  basic  fact  in  all  of  our 
economic  organization.  All  elements  in  the  com- 
munity are  subject  to  it.  The  banker,  the  business 
man,  the  small  dealer,  the  professional,  the  skilled 
worker  and  the  poor  unskilled  worker,  all  are  sub- 
ject to  it,  but  the  worker  suffers  most.  This  im- 
portant characteristic  of  the  age  lies  at  the  root 
of  its  greatest  discords. 

Before  closing  this  chapter  it  may  be  worth  while 
to  contrast  the  life  of  to-day  with  that  of  the  people 
before  the  Industrial  Revolution.  To  take  the 
poorest — the  serf.  He  had  neither  great  riches  nor 
great  prospect  of  becoming  rich.  He  lacked  the 
personal  freedom  upon  which  we  place  so  much 
value,  but  he  had  stability  and  security.  He  had  a 
little  piece  of  land,  a  shack  for  a  house,  but  he  was 
secure  in  their  possession  because  the  landlord  could 
not  take  them  away.  He  had  a  few  animals — poor, 
emaciated,  and  small,  it  is  true,  but  still  he  owned 
them.  His  life,  hard  and  comfortless  as  it  may 


22  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

have  been,  did  not  carry  with  it  the  constant  sense 
of  insecurity.  No  boss  could  fire  him,  no  one  could 
dispossess  him,  and  even  the  most  exacting  lord  left 
him  in  unmolested  possession  of  the  little  that  he 
himself  failed  to  take.  At  eighteen  the  boy  could 
feel  confident  that  at  sixty,  barring  unusual  ac- 
cidents, he  would  retain  his  home,  his  land  and  his 
piece  of  bread.  This  fact  of  security  was  even  more 
definite  in  the  case  of  those  above  the  peasant  class. 
The  machine  tore  the  worker  from  his  moorings 
and  set  him  adrift.  The  dynamic  character  of  our 
civilization  has  invaded  the  peace  of  the  whole  com- 
munity. Remarkable  as  the  achievements  of  the 
last  hundred  and  fifty  years  have  been  they  cannot 
be  told  in  full  unless  we  include  in  the  cost  not  only 
effort  and  material  but  also  the  lost  security  of  the 
individual.  The  worker  has  become  a  nomad,  in 
the  sense  that  he  has  lost  permanency  of  tenure. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE    CENTER   OF   GRAVITY 

THE  machine  has  become  the  center  of  gravity 
in  the  present-day  industrial  community.  It  is 
increasingly  occupying  the  place  once  held  by  land 
and  still  claimed  by  commerce.  Just  as  Feudalism 
was  the  expression  of  the  dominance  of  land,  and 
as  capitalism  was  the  expression  of  the  growing 
inportance  of  commerce,  so  the  labor  movement  is 
the  direct  and  immediate  consequence  of  the 
machine.  It  is  its  political  and  social  outcome. 
Historically,  a  kind  of  feudalism  in  political  organ- 
ization always  followed  upon  the  growth  of  large 
land-holding,  as  the  land-holding  system  resulted  in 
the  dominance  of  a  few  nobles  and  the  subservience 
of  a  mass  of  inarticulate  peasants.  This  system, 
in  its  final  stages,  was  crowned  by  a  strong  and 
all-powerful  central  government  such  as  was  char- 
acteristic of  France  before  the  Revolution  of  1789, 
and  more  recently  of  Russia,  Germany  and  Hun- 
gary. The  growth  of  commerce,  the  rise  of  a 
powerful  commercial  class,  has  everywhere  ex- 
pressed itself  either  in  a  complete  destruction  of  the 
feudal  organization,  as  represented  by  land  holding, 

23 


24  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

or  in  a  distinct  modification  of  it.  England,  the 
United  States,  and  France  furnish  good  examples 
of  the  almost  complete  dominance  of  the  com- 
mercial class,  because  commerce  was  held  to  be  and 
was  the  center  of  gravity,  while  Germany  up  to  a 
recent  date  represented  a  modification  of  feudalism 
so  as  to  give  the  commercial  element  its  increasing 
share  of  control.  The  place  once  occupied  by  land 
or  commerce  is  now  being  absorbed  by  the  machine. 
The  machine  is  the  new  center  of  gravity,  and  every 
addition  to  the  mechanical  character  of  our  civiliza- 
tion increases  the  weight  and  controlling  power  of 
this  new  force. 

The  machine  has  a  peculiar  character.  It  is  a 
grouping  of  mechanical  forces  which  requires  at- 
tendance on  the  part  of  human  beings.  It  does  not 
operate  itself — it  must  be  looked  after,  controlled, 
directed,  its  material  must  be  fed  to  it  and  its 
finished  produce  taken  away.  That  is,  a  machine 
is  a  mechanical  beehive,  and  the  human  beings  like 
bees  buzz  around  it,  each  performing  his  allotted 
task.  A  machine,  if  it  works  at  all,  requires  the  as- 
sembling of  human  beings  and  compels  their  co- 
operation, even  if  only  in  a  physical  sense. 
Mechanical  industrial  organization  is  cumulative  in 
character.  It  feeds  upon  other  machines.  Every 
industry  calls  into  being  other  industries,  differing 
in  particular  structure  and  function  but  not  in 
essence.  The  printing  industry  requires  large  print- 
ing presses.  These,  in  their  turn,  call  for  large 
foundry  establishments.  The  printing  industry  also 
requires  huge  amounts  of  paper  and  to  produce  this 


THE  CENTER  OF  GRAVITY  25 

there  have  been  developed  highly  organized  mechan- 
ical instruments  for  paper  making.  What  is  true 
of  printing  is  true  of  every  other  industry. 

It  is  important  here  to  remember  the  fact  that 
every  factory  is  a  grouping  not  only  of  machinery 
but  also  of  human  beings,  and  as  the  mechanical 
character  of  industry  develops,  as  it  becomes  larger 
and  more  complicated,  it  draws  about  itself  a 
greater  and  more  numerous  assemblage  of  men  and 
women  who  spend  their  lives  performing  different 
functions  demanded  by  the  machine. 

The  cumulative  grouping  of  human  beings  and 
the  increasing  complexity  and  interdependence  of 
the  machines  about  which  they  work  is  one  of  the 
characteristics  of  industrial  civilization.  This  change 
towards  the  mechanical  has,  up  to  date,  carried 
with  it  an  increasing  urbanization.  The  cities  have 
grown  at  a  steady  pace,  and  one  of  the  reasons  for 
their  growth  is  that  mechanical  organization  has  up 
to  date  centered  in  specific  places.  New  York, 
Pittsburg,  Chicago,  represent  a  growing  mechan- 
ical complexity  as  well  as  a  growing  cumulation 
of  men  and  women  who,  even  if  they  are  employed 
in  different  industries,  still  operate  primarily  as 
attendants  upon  similar  machines.  Thus  we  have 
complexity  of  machinery,  carrying  with  itself  an 
increasing  size  of  factory,  and  the  herding  together 
of  thousands  of  men  and  women  under  a  common 
roof  in  close  physical  contact.  So  comes  the  grow- 
ing city,  composed  to  a  large  extent  of  these  same 
men  and  women  working  in  different  factories  and 
of  other  men  and  women  who  attend  to  their  phys- 


26  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

ical  needs — the  bakers,  the  butchers,  clothing  oper- 
ators, who  feed  and  clothe  the  mechanical  worker. 
And  they  too  are  driven  to  spend  their  lives  around 
the  machine.  Even  the  restaurant  has  been  invaded 
by  the  machine — the  Automat.  The  machine  is  thus 
the  determinant  of  the  activities,  contacts,  outlook, 
and  method  of  life  of  the  people  who  are  grouped 
around  it,  and  this  influence  is  steadily  growing  in 
importance  as  new  inventions  eliminate  older  trades 
or  create  new  ones. 

The  machine  has  additional  consequences  which 
are  important  in  determining  its  influence.  As  it 
grows  in  complexity  it  becomes  simpler  in  its  de- 
mand upon  the  individual  worker.  The  machine 
destroys  skill.  It  takes  a  complicated  process  and 
breaks  it  up  into  its  elementary  parts.  The  con- 
centrated technique  of  the  shoemaker  is  subdivided 
into  some  thirty  operations  requiring  thirty  human 
beings,  each  doing  one-thirtieth  part  of  the  work 
formerly  done  by  a  skilled  man.  One  might  say 
that,  in  so  far  as  that  particular  task  is  concerned, 
the  intelligence  of  each  man  has  been  reduced  to  a 
thirtieth  of  that  of  the  skilled  craftsman — at  least 
the  machine  demands  no  more.  Skill,  however,  re- 
presents many  things  other  than  form.  It  represents 
pride  in  work,  interest  and  creative  activity.  The 
machine  destroys  these  and  enforces  the  simple 
repetitive  act  which  is  monotonous  and  dull.  Thus 
we  have,  as  a  result  of  machine  organization,  cumu- 
lative groupings  of  men  in  close  physical  contact, 
carrying  on  a  cooperative  function  and  yet  each  one 
subjected  to  conditions  monotonous,  uninteresting 


THE  CENTER  OF  GRAVITY  27 

and  uncontrollable  so  far  as  the  individual  worker 
is  concerned. 

The  fuller  appreciation  of  the  significance  of  the 
machine  as  the  new  center  of  gravity  requires  a 
little  further  description  of  the  human  bees  who 
hum  and  buzz,  work,  sweat,  growl  and  swear  in 
our  factories.  The  machine  requires  attendants. 
The  attendants  are  human.  The  machine  runs,  at 
its  very  least,  eight  hours  per  day,  and  for  eight 
hours  men  and  women  must  keep  pace  with  the 
black  noisy  giants  around  which  they  work.  This 
means  that  their  best  time  is  taken  by  the  machine. 
It  means  that  most  of  the  day,  counting  the  coming 
and  going,  is  occupied  with  the  machine.  The 
mechanical  organization  tends  to  be  confined  to 
larger  cities  so  that  the  workers  live  in  tenements, 
crowded  for  space,  crowded  for  time,  denuded  of 
personal  interests.  Then,  too,  the  overcrowding 
makes  land  dear  so  that  the  worker  very  seldom 
owns  his  own  home.  He  is  a  tenant  living  at  the 
mercy  (often)  of  a  strict  and  exacting  landlord. 

What  is  true  of  the  landlord  often  becomes  true 
of  other  relations  which  the  worker  has  with  the 
community.  His  purchases  at  the  butcher's  and 
the  grocer's,  his  clothing,  his  amusements,  are  to 
be  had  only  in  terms  of  direct  and  immediate  cash 
payment,  at  best  a  week's  or  two  weeks'  credit. 
His  income,  however,  is  determined  by  one  source — 
the  machine.  He  is  completely  dependent  upon  the 
opportunity  to  work  about  the  machine,  which  he 
does  not  control.  The  situation  for  the  individual 
worker,  and  in  large  cities  the  mass  of  the  people 


28  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

are  workers,  is  thus  directly  and  immediately  de- 
pendent upon  his  contact  and  approach  to  the  ma- 
chine. 

In  the  factory  where  these  men  are  in  such  close 
physical  proximity  the  situation  is  even  more  tense. 
Here  are  some  hundreds  or  thousands  of  men 
thrown  together — their  destinies  bound  by  a  ma- 
chine. They  work  in  the  same  shop,  for  the  same 
employer,  in  the  same  industry,  and  they  have  a 
common  contact.  These  men  may  be,  and  often 
are,  drawn  from  all  parts  of  the  globe.  They  have, 
however,  one  thing  in  common.  The  machine  re- 
duces their  interests  to  a  common  denominator. 
The  machine  develops  new  interests,  new  motives, 
new  contracts,  new  problems,  new  connections, 
which  for  the  workers  as  a  group  become  the  in- 
sistent and  the  basic  things  with  which  they  have  to 
deal.  The  machine  is  their  common  center  of 
gravity.  What  land  did  for  the  noble  in  the  days 
of  feudalism  and  what  the  competitive  market  and 
free  bank  connections  do  for  the  merchant,  the 
factory  does  for  the  worker.  Wherever  the  machine 
invades  the  activities  of  the  community  it  upsets 
older  relations,  destroys  older  interests  and  replaces 
them  with  their  newer  problem — the  problem  of  the 
control  and  direction  of  the  new  force  represented 
by  mechanical  industry.  The  machine,  however, 
seems  to  know  no  limits.  It  is  invading  a  constantly 
'increasing  portion  of  the  community's  activities. 
It  constantly  compels  new  adjustments  for  more 
and  more  people.  The  control  of  the  machine  is 
the  root  problem  of  the  labor  movement.  The  labor 


THE  CENTER  OF  GRAVITY  29 

movement  is  but  the  political  expression  of  a  new 
center  of  social  gravity.  Where  men  used  to  have 
land  or  commerce  in  common  they  now  have  the 
machine,  and  as  the  feudal  organization  represented 
the  expression  of  the  dominance  of  land,  as  capital- 
ism represented  and  represents  the  dominance  of 
commerce — so  the  labor  movement  is  the  blind  and 
unplanned  readjustment  of  men  to  a  new  economic 
center  of  gravity.  This  force  is  all  powerful.  It 
makes  the  labor  movement.  The  labor  movement 
is  the  result,  and  the  machine  is  the  major  cause. 
The  difference  in  the  character  of  the  machine  goes 
far  to  account  for  the  difference  in  the  political 
manifestation  of  the  workers,  just  as  capitalism  re- 
presented a  difference  from  feudalism.  This  center 
of  gravity,  like  all  previous  centers  of  gravity,  is 
not  only  economic  but  also  psychological  and  po- 
litical in  its  consequence.  It  is,  for  the  workers  in 
the  factory,  the  core  of  their  contact  with  the  world. 
It  is  their  means  of  subsistence  and  their  basis  of 
life.  The  complexity  of  the  machine,  the  noise,  the 
dirt,  the  monotony,  the  consequent  suppression  of 
creative  impulses  and  the  opposition  by  the  employ- 
ers to  collective  adjustment  on  the  part  of  the 
workers,  explain  the  discontent,  the  bitterness  and 
the  insistence  on  greater  control,  as  much  as  eco- 
nomic need  itself.  The  fact  that  men  in  the  factory 
are  reduced  to  a  group,  and  that  control  requires 
cooperation,  explains  the  mass  character  of  the  labor 
movement.  It  is  cooperative  because  production  is 
cooperative,  just  as  commerce  is  competitive.  Com- 
merce is  interested  in  sales ;  commerce  is  subordinate 


30  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

to  sales — industry  to  production.  Sales  are  es- 
sentially competitive.  Production  is  essentially  co- 
operative. This  largely  explains  the  competitive 
character  of  capitalism  and  the  cooperative  char- 
acter of  the  labor  movement.  Around  this  new 
center  of  gravity  is  grouped  an  increasing  part  of 
the  community,  and  the  adjustment  to  it  is  the 
meaning  of  the  labor  movement.  But  this  adjust- 
ment, instead  of  taking  place  naturally  and  peace- 
fully, is  misunderstood  and  misrepresented  because 
of  the  fact  that  the  labor  movement  is  compelled 
to  carry  on  a  battle  for  existence.  Instead  of  being 
purely  constructive,  and  creative,  instead  of  facing 
the  problem  of  technique  and  adjustment,  of  co- 
operation and  control,  it  must  carry  on  a  struggle 
for  the  right  to  have  any  control  at  all.  This,  how- 
ever, while  an  important  element  in  the  growth  of 
the  labor  movement,  and  in  the  idealism  which  de- 
termines its  warfare,  is  only  incidental.  The  real 
essence  of  labor  organization  can  become  evident 
only  after  this  new  growth  is  expressed  in  a  social 
realignment,  and  for  the  time  being  the  best  that 
can  be  looked  for  is  a  foreshadowing  of  the  form 
and  structure  of  the  future  as  it  shows  itself  in  the 
present. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  FUNCTION  OF  THE  LABOR  UNION 

THE  labor  union  developed  primarily  as  an  in- 
strument for  self  defence.  It  is  an  attempt  to 
harness  the  machine  around  which  the  workers' 
destinies  are  spun,  and  along  with  that  it  is  an  effort 
to  stem  the  tide  of  insecurity  by  which  the  individual 
worker's  life  is  menaced.  It  is  a  reaching  out  for 
some  hold  that  will  be  permanent,  stable  and  secure 
in  this  shifting,  changing  world.  The  hope  of 
greater  security  is  the  motive  which  drives  the 
average  worker  into  a  labor  organization.  The  labor 
union  is  the  instrument  of  defence  which  the  in- 
dividual uses,  an  instrument  built  with  effort  and 
suffering  to  serve  as  a  bulwark  against  a  harsh,  in- 
different and  changing  world  which  gives  no 
thought  to  the  individual.  Unless  we  see  the  labor 
movement  as  an  irresistible  coming  together  of  men 
in  terms  of  the  tools  and  the  industry  which  they 
use  in  common,  for  purposes  of  greater  security  by 
more  effective  control  of  them,  we  cannot  and  do 
not  understand  the  labor  movement  at  all. 

Organized  labor  is  an  organic  growth  around  the 
machine.     It  is  a  part  of  the  machine.     It  can  no 

31 


32  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

more  be  separated  from  present-day  industry  than 
the  machine  can  be  separated  from  industrial  civil- 
ization. It  is  the  spiritual  consequence  of  the 
physical  cooperation  which  modern  industry  de- 
mands— and  it  is  inevitable.  The  conscious  motive 
of  the  average  worker  is  greater  security;  but  it  is 
the  commercial  control  of  the  machine  which  makes 
insecurity  permanent  in  the  life  of  the  worker. 
Group  control  of  a  common  center  of  gravity — 
and  with  it  the  hope  of  more  stability,  more  per- 
manence, more  security  is  the  root  of  the  labor 
movement.  It  is  its  object,  its  aim,  and  its  method. 
The  individual  worker  plans  little  more  than  greater 
bargaining  power  with  his  employer  when  he  joins 
a  labor  union.  His  association  with  other  men  for 
control  of  the  machine  and  the  job  which  it  pro- 
vides has  consequences  which  he  does  not  plan, 
which  he  does  not  foresee.  He  must  join  a  labor 
organization  as  a  means  of  defence,  and  in  the 
process  of  carrying  out  the  implications  of  defence 
against  the  competitive  character  of  the  capitalist 
system  he  contributes  to  the  rebuilding  of  present- 
day  society — a  contribution  which  represents  a  by- 
product of  the  more  immediate  and  conscious  at-, 
tempt  to  find  security  in  an  insecure  world. 

The  fact  that  security  is  the  prime  motive  in 
labor  organization  is  made  clear  by  some  of  the 
most  characteristic  rules  and  regulations  of  the 
various  working  class  organizations.  Workers 
organize  in  terms  of  their  skill  or  in  terms  of  their 
industry.  They  organize  in  terms  of  skill  or  in- 
dustry because  they  feel  that  a  united  control  of 


FUNCTION  OF  THE  LABOR  UNION    33 

their  labor  power  will  give  greater  security  and 
stability  than  individual  competition  will  give.  The 
initiation  fee  which  has  upon  occasion  been  raised 
to  prohibitive  heights  is  simply  an  attempt  to  main- 
tain such  security  and  power  for  the  particular 
group  which  has  already  been  organized.  The 
system  of  "Ca-canny,"  is  an  attempt  to  make  a  job 
— any  single  job — last  as  long  as  possible  and  thus 
maintain  the  security  of  income  for  the  particular 
group  in  question.  The  opposition  to  machinery  is 
but  another  illustration  of  the  purpose  of  the  labor 
movement — opposition  to  the  machine  because  it 
forces  union  members  out  of  employment.  There  is 
no  opposition  to  the  machine  as  such.  There  is 
only  an  opposition  to  the  machine  as  it  influences 
the  security  of  the  workers.  Wherever  possible, 
for  instance,  in  the  introduction  of  the  printing 
machinery  and  at  present  of  clothing  machinery, 
the  workers  make  every  attempt  to  regulate  its  in- 
troduction so  as  to  benefit  and  not  to  suffer  from  it. 
Thus  in  the  clothing  industry  the  labor  union  does 
not  oppose  the  introduction  of  new  machinery;  it 
merely  insists  that  workers  displaced  by  the  new 
machine  be  placed  in  another  position  by  the  firm 
which  introduces  it  and  benefits  from  it.1 

These  practices  for  establishing  security  and 
stability  are  only  a  few  out  of  many  which  are 
adopted  for  the  same  purpose.  The  opposition  to 
overtime  is  not  only  an  opposition  to  long  hours 
that  strain  the  strength  and  health  of  the  workers, 

1  Statement  in  conversation  by  Mr.  Schlosberg  of  the 
Amalgamated  Clothing  Workers. 


34  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

but  also  an  opposition  to  overwork  at  one  time  and 
underwork  at  another  time.  It  is  an  attempt  to 
regulate  income — the  one  means  of  security  in  a 
world  where  goods  and  services  are  rendered  in 
terms  of  money.  The  demand  for  the  eight  and 
seven  hour  day  is  another  illustration  of  this  tend- 
ency. The  eight  hour  day  serves  many  purposes. 
But  the  one  which  is  predominant  in  the  minds  of 
the  workers  is  the  belief  that  it  will  make  more 
work  and  will  make  what  work  there  is  last  longer. 
This  is  also  true  of  the  provisions  made  by  many 
unions  in  their  contracts  for  the  regulation  of  the 
slack  season.  In  some  of  the  unions  the  workers 
are  laid  off  in  degree  of  seniority,  in  others  the 
married  men  are  laid  off  last,  in  others  still  the 
hours  of  labor  are  reduced  with  the  oncoming  slack 
season  as  to  keep  the  workers  on  the  job  as  long 
as  possible,  while  in  some  unions  the  workers  take 
turns  at  working  a  week  each  so  as  to  maintain 
some  semblance  of  economic  security  and  stability. 
To  all  of  these  regulations  must  be  added  the 
fact  that  many  unions  have  unemployment  provis- 
ions for  their  workers — sickness  benefits,  disability 
benefits,  and  in  many  cases  death  benefit  provisions 
for  families.  All  of  these  and  others — such  as  the 
demand  for  government  provision  of  unemployment 
insurance,  sickness  insurance  and  old  age  pensions 
— are  evidence  of  the  fact  that  the  labor  movement 
is  primarily  organized  to  make  secure  the  lives  of 
the  workers  and  to  protect  them  from  evil  con- 
sequences of  the  operation  of  our  dynamic  economic 
organization. 


FUNCTION  OF  THE  LABOR  UNION    35 

The  International  Typographical  Union,  for  in- 
stance, has  a  mortuary  and  old  age  benefit,  a  dis- 
ability benefit,  a  union  home,  and  a  hospital  for 
union  members.  That  this  is  the  function  of  the 
labor  union  wherever  it  is  organized  is  illustrated 
by  the  fact  that  in  Germany  58.2  per  cent,  of  the 
union  funds  go  for  unemployment  and  sickness, 
invalidism  and  funeral  benefits;  in  Great  Britain 
75.91  per  cent,  is  used  for  the  same  purposes,  while 
in  Austria  36.72  per  cent.,  in  Sweden  17.86  per 
cent.,  in  the  Netherlands  25.2  per  cent.,  in  Denmark 
62.39  per  cent.,  in  Switzerland  40.37  per  cent.,  and 
in  Norway  42.6  per  cent,  are  similarly  used.1  They 
serve  the  purpose  of  maintaining  a  stable  working 
force,  of  maintaining  a  vestige  of  self-respect  and 
feeling  of  security  in  a  world  that  is  constantly 
slipping  from  the  form  it  had  yesterday — and  in  the 
process  displacing  the  hold  of  the  worker  upon  his 
life  and  income.  The  labor  union  is  thus  the  in- 
strument, the  means  of  holding  on  to  a  fleeing  and 
changing  world. 

This  function  of  organized  labor  is  of  very  great 
significance.  It  not  only  characterizes  the  present 
labor  movement  but  indicates  its  tendency.  The 
labor  movement  serves  as  a  means  of  stabilizing 
a  dynamic  \vorld.  To  state  it  in  other  words,  the 
labor  movement  serves  to  make  possible  the  con- 
tinuance of  the  dynamic  character  of  our  industrial 
organization  within  a  social  organization  secure  for 

1  Statistics  of  Trade  Union  Expenditures  for  1912,  pub- 
lished in  U.  S.  Labor  Dept.  Monthly  Labor  Review  for  May 
1916,  p.  83. 


36  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

the  individual.  It  tends  in  the  direction  of  making 
possible  the  introduction  of  new  machinery  without 
throwing  workers  out  of  their  jobs,  of  developing 
new  methods  without  bringing  suffering  and  need 
upon  those  whom  it  displaces.  It  is  an  attempt  to 
balance  human  cooperation  and  deliberate  adjust- 
ment against  the  forces  of  machinery  and  invention 
and  against  the  interest  of  profit  and  business 
motive.  It  is  here  that  the  full  significance  of  this 
phase  of  the  labor  movement  makes  itself  evident. 
The  capitalistic  system  of  production  and  dis- 
tribution is  the  most  unstable  that  the  world  has 
ever  developed  since  man  emerged  from  the  barest 
savagery.  Capitalist  economic  organization  operates 
in  terms  of  profit  and  through  a  market  of  great 
sensitiveness.  Insecurity  is  true  not  only  of  the 
worker  but  of  the  business  man,  and  there  seems  at 
present  no  immediate  means  of  stabilizing  the  in- 
fluences of  the  market  and  credit  system  upon  busi- 
ness and  commercial  activity.  These  forces,  coupled 
with  the  fact  that  there  is  keen  competition  among 
employers,  tend  to  place  labor  organizations  on  a 
very  precarious  footing ;  they  are  in  a  sense  allowed 
to  exist  upon  sufferance.  Their  destruction  may 
mean  at  any  given  time  securing  advantage  over  a 
competitor  or  saving  oneself  from  bankruptcy. 
Motives  of  profit  demand  the  greatest  freedom 
from  control  in  business  organization.  The  signs 
of  the  market  may  and  constantly  do  make  demands 
for  expansion  or  contraction  of  business  activity, 
compel  the  shutting  down  of  a  factory,  the  elimi- 
nation of  certain  types  of  goods  produced,  the 


FUNCTION  OF  THE  LABOR  UNION    37 

development  of  new  fashions  and  newer  types  or 
organization.  Motives  of  profit  also  dictate  the 
increase  of  the  non-productive  part  of  a  business 
organization.  They  make  for  an  increase  in  the 
advertising  and  selling  agencies  and  tend  to  under- 
estimate the  productive  side  of  the  industrial 
organization.  They  make  for  insistence  upon  profit 
motives  rather  than  upon  those  of  service.  The 
labor  organization  is  a  thing  that  stands  in  the  way 
of  freedom  of  manipulation  for  the  manufacturer, 
and  constitutes  a  hindrance  to  experimentation. 

This  difference  of  interest  between  the  employer 
and  the  employee  in  terms  of  the  fluctuating  market 
makes  the  need  for  security  an  ever  constant  fact. 
What  is  of  greatest  importance  is  that  security 
depends  almost  entirely  upon  organization  and  con- 
trol by  the  workers.  This  fact  alone,  if  there  were 
no  other  contributing  factors,  would  force  the 
workers  inevitably  in  the  direction  of  greater  or- 
ganization, of  more  power  and  of  greater  control. 
Their  very  existence  depends  upon  it.  What  follows 
is  simple.  The  more  complete  the  organization  of 
the  workers,  the  more  power  they  have ;  the  greater 
the  number  of  rules  and  regulations  they  impose 
upon  industry,  the  less  freedom  of  response  to  the 
market — in  terms  of  profit — is  there  left  for  the 
employer.  The  labor  organization  tends  to  restrict 
the  freedom  of  competition,  of  change,  of  con- 
traction and  expansion  in  the  present  business 
organization. 

One  of  the  characteristic  forms  of  control  which 
the  labor  movement  represents  is  the  attempt  to 


38  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

control  hiring  and  firing.  In  Lynn,  Massachusetts, 
for  instance,  the  shoe  industry  is  bound  by  contract 
to  hire  only  through  the  labor  union  headquarters — 
but  even  firing  is  restricted  and  may  be  considered 
a  grievance  subject  to  arbitration.  To  quote  the 
contract  for  the  year  ending  September,  1920,  sec- 
tion 8 :  "The  discharge  of  any  employee  considered 
a  grievance  by  joint  council  No.  1,  shall  be  con- 
sidered a  difference  within  the  meaning  of  this 
agreement  and  in  case  such  employee  is  restored 
to  his  or  her  position,  he  or  she  shall  be  compensated 
for  lost  time  because  of  such  wrongful  discharge 
in  any  amount  to  be  fixed  by  the  Board  of  Adjust- 
ment." 1  This  same  contract  is  characteristic  in  its 
restriction  upon  the  changes  in  method  and  ma- 
chinery which  the  labor  movement  develops  in  its 
attempt  to  secure  the  workers'  income  and  tenure. 
Section  six  of  this  same  contract  reads  as  follows : 
"It  is  further  agreed  that  if  the  employer  decides 
to  introduce  new  work  or  to  change  in  any  manner 
and  form  the  process  of  manufacturing  shoes  from 
the  manner  and  form  in  which  the  work  is  being 
done  (at  the  time  of  the  execution  of  this  agree- 
ment) immediate  notice  shall  be  given  to  the  proper 
agents  of  local  unions  affiliated  with  Joint  Council 
No.  1,  United  Shoe  Workers  of  America  before  any 
change  takes  place." 

The  attitude  of  the  employers  in  whose  industry 

a  From  copy  of  1919  contract  between  Joint  Council  No.  1, 
United  Shoe  Workers  of  America  and  Lynn  Mass.,  shoe 
manufacturers,  supplied  to  author  by  one  of  the  manufac- 
turers. 


FUNCTION  OF  THE  LABOR  UNION    39 

the  labor  unions  have  not  as  yet  achieved  sufficient 
organization  to  make  such  control  an  established 
fact,  is  interestingly  illustrated  by  the  following 
quotation  taken  from  a  newspaper  account,  headed 
"Call  Lockout  Blow  at  Reds,"  which  concerns  it- 
self with  a  dispute  between  the  Store  Fixtures 
Manufacturers'  Association  and  the  workers.  "The 
International  Union,"  said  Solon  Jay  Riesser, 
president  of  the  manufacturers'  organization,  "is 
composed  almost  entirely  of  aliens  who  have  become 
imbued  with  the  Bolshevistic  idea  that  they  have  a 
right  to  control  the  industry.  The  last  demands  as 
framed  by  this  organization  even  took  away  the 
right  of  the  employer  to  hire  and  to  discharge  the 
worker."  This  fact  of  increasing  control  alone  if 
carried  to  its  full  consequence  would  force  almost 
a  complete  stiffening  of  the  business  organization. 
With  the  growth  of  this  force  there  tends  to  develop 
a  demand  for  greater  control  over  the  actual  oper- 
ation of  the  business  group  and  for  diverting  its 
energies  into  channels  of  service  rather  than  profit 
— a  proposition  not  compatible  with  present  busi- 
ness organization. 

This  division  of  interests — the  need  for  security 
on  the  part  of  the  worker  and  the  need  for  freedom 
from  restraint  which  security  implies  on  the  part 
of  the  employer — tends  to  make  the  struggle  of  the 
worker  and  employer  an  inevitable  one  until  either 
the  worker  has  been  reduced  to  an  impotent  tool 
or  the  profit  motive  in  industry  has  been  displaced. 

There  is  thus  no  room,  from  present  appearances, 

'From  the  N.  Y.  Globe  of  May  11,  1920. 


40  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

for  compromise  between  the  worker  and  the  busi- 
ness community.  They  operate  in  different  di- 
rections. They  require  different  types  of  organiza- 
tion. The  labor  movement,  however,  shows  no 
signs  of  abatement.  In  fact  it  shows  a  distinct 
tendency  towards  rapid  growth  and  absorption  of 
other  groups  in  the  community.  It  tends  to  include 
more  and  more  the  professional  and  the  civil-service 
people  of  the  community,  each  of  whom  is  inter- 
ested in  stability  and  security,  each  of  whom 
operates  in  terms  of  service  rather  than  of  profit. 
There  is  thus  a  growing  combination  of  those 
elements  in  the  community  whose  interests  are 
other  than  those  of  profit.  Between  them  and  the 
group  representing  the  profit  motive  there  is  obvi- 
ously at  present  no  sign  of  compromise. 

Instability  and  opportunity  for  expansion  and 
contraction,  for  cutting  expenses  and  utilizing  new 
methods  to  reduce  the  cost  of  production,  are  part 
and  parcel  of  the  business  community.  But  all  of 
these  things  simply  add  to  the  force  of  what  has 
already  been  said — a  continuation  of  the  insecurity 
for  the  worker.  The  labor  movement  growing 
stronger  and  more  insistent  seems  to  make  the 
obvious  consequence  of  elimination  of  the  business 
community  an  inevitable  end  of  the  present  struggle. 

One  could  of  course  argue  that  social  legislation 
represents  the  same  tendency.  In  fact  the  resistance 
to  child  labor  legislation  in  the  United  States,  the 
resistance  to  the  welfare  bills  in  the  State  of  New 
York — a  resistance  which  has  lasted  over  some  six 
years  in  spite  of  many  attempts  to  overcome  it— 


FUNCTION  OF  THE  LABOR  UNION    41 

is  proof  of  the  insistence  of  the  employing  group 
upon  freedom,  upon  non-interference  in  the  way 
they  run  their  own  business.  Legislation  could, 
if  carried  to  its  logical  conclusion,  actually  destroy 
the  competitive  character  of  the  present  commercial 
system  and  substitute  State  Socialism.  However, 
the  point  argued  in  this  chapter  is  that  the  labor 
movement  tends  to  destroy  the  freedom  of  the 
employer  as  a  necessary  consequence  of  its  growth, 
as  a  part  of  the  development  of  the  instruments 
and  methods  of  achieving  security  for  the  indi- 
vidual. The  labor  union  actually  does  what  the 
legislation  proposes  to  do — with  the  difference  that 
it  does  not  make  for  bureaucratic  control  of  in- 
dustry which  is  consequent  upon  legislative  control. 
It  is  simpler  and  more  direct,  and  responsibility  is 
more  democratically  distributed.  Control  is  also 
more  constant,  because  it  is  in  the  hands  of  those 
who  suffer  from  any  let-down  of  the  established 
rules.  This  is  true  unless*  one  assumes  that  the 
labor  movement  may  still  be  destroyed  and  the  old 
insecurity  of  the  worker's  life  made  a  part  of  the 
business  process.  This,  however,  seems  at  present 
to  be  little  more  than  a  wish  of  the  business  com- 
munity, a  wish  which  it  has  not  the  power,  even  if 
it  had  the  will,  to  achieve.  The  other  possible 
alternative  is  the  assumption  that  the  capitalist 
system  can  stabilize  itself  and  stabilize  the  life  of 
the  workers  and  thus  save  itself  from  destruction. 
(This  would  assume  that  stability  was  the  only  drive 
behind  the  labor  movement. )  But  such  an  achieve- 
ment would  require  the  elimination  of  individual 


42  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

competition  and  a  kind  of  complete  state  capitalism 
— a  possibility  which  seems  beyond  present  con- 
jecture. 

There  is  apparently  only  one  possible  outcome — 
either  the  workers  will  achieve  complete  security  by 
eliminating  the  profit  motive  and  the  business  com- 
munity, or  the  business  community  will  destroy  the 
labor  movement  and  get  back  for  itself  the  absolute 
economic  freedom  which  it  enjoyed  soon  after  the 
Industrial  Revolution.  To  achieve  this  freedom  for 
the  business  community  seems  at  present  a  vision- 
ary and,  as  will  be  made  clearer  by  some  of  the 
other  chapters  of  the  book,  a  hopeless  dream.  The 
labor  movement  which  began  as  a  defence  against 
insecurity  operates  as  a  means  of  stabilizing  a 
dynamic  world  without  destroying  its  dynamic 
character  and  seems  destined  to  achieve  complete 
control  of  the  industrial  functions  of  the  community 
by  substituting  service  for  profit  in  industrial  enter- 
prise— and  with  service  introducing  democracy  into 
industry. 

It  might  be  argued  that  in  describing  the  distinc- 
tion between  the  employers'  and  workers'  interests 
to  be  one  between  freedom  for  the  employer  and 
security  for  the  worker,  we  are  not  stating  the  facts 
clearly.  The  employer,  it  may  well  be  said,  wants 
security  and  the  worker  wants  freedom.  But  this 
statement  leaves  out  the  fact  that  the  employer  can 
have  security  under  present  conditions  only  if  he 
has  a  competitive  advantage  over  his  fellow  business 
men  and  that  the  maintenance  of  such  an  advantage 
generally  implies  the  possibility  of  maintaining  ab- 


FUNCTION  OF  THE  LABOR  UNION    43 

solute  freedom  of  control  over  his  industrial  oper- 
ations. On  the  other  hand,  freedom  for  the  worker 
is  at  present  impossible  without  first  achieving 
security  of  tenure.  It  is  here  that  the  real  divergence 
lies  between  security  of  tenure  through  group  con- 
trol for  the  worker  and  freedom  from  outside  in- 
terference for  the  employer. 

The  outcome  we  suggest  as  seemingly  inevitable 
might  also  be  disputed  on  the  ground  that  there  is 
a  third  way  out.  The  state  might  assume  the  re- 
sponsibility of  security  for  the  individual  and  leave 
the  employer  free  to  manipulate  his  industry  as  he 
sees  fit.  This  is  not  practicable  under  present  con- 
ditions. It  would  imply  a  degree  of  control  over 
the  individual  worker's  activities  and  operations  by 
the  state  which  can  at  present  not  be  assumed  as 
possible.  The  state  that  would  undertake  to  main- 
tain the  income  of  the  individual  worker  would  also 
demand  control  over  his  activities.  The  right  to 
determine  place  and  function,  hours  and  conditions 
of  labor,  would  immediately  follow  upon  the  grant- 
ing of  a  steady  income  to  the  individual,  and  the 
assumption  of  all  this  for  the  sake  of  maintaining 
freedom  for  the  employer  to  carry  on  his  com- 
petitive game  cannot  be  entertained.  It  would  mean 
the  slavery  of  the  worker  to  the  state  for  the  pur- 
pose of  giving  freedom  to  the  employer  to  contract 
and  expand,  to  make  profits  and  undercut  his  fellow 
merchant  and  manufacturer.  This  is  not  to  be  had 
in  a  world  such  as  ours — a  world  where  individu- 
alism is  so  highly  developed,  where  criticism  is  so 
constant,  where  the  sense  of  personal  equality  is  so 


44  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

strong,  and  where  political  democracy  has  become 
the  basis  for  a  movement  toward  industrial  democ- 
racy, and  where  the  labor  movement  has  secured 
control  over  some  of  the  more  basic  industries  in 
the  community. 

There  are  apparently  only  two  possible  alterna- 
tives. Either  the  business  community  is  going  to 
destroy  the  labor  movement  or  the  labor  movement 
will  absorb  the  control  and  power  now  in  the  hands 
of  the  business  community  and  by  such  absorption 
displace  competition  and  substitute  cooperation.  This 
in  fact  seems  to  be  the  tendency  of  the  labor  move- 
ment. The  analysis  of  the  work  and  method  of 
organized  labor  in  the  following  chapters  seems  to 
predicate  the  displacement  of  the  capitalist  system 
by  industrial  democracy — an  achievement  which  is 
implicit  in  the  growth  and  development  of  the  or- 
ganized labor  movement. 


CHAPTER  IV 

LABOR    MOVEMENT    PSYCHOLOGY 

HE  who  would  know  the  labor  movement,  its 
discontent  and  idealism,  its  hatred  and  love, 
its  bitterness  and  enthusiasm,  must  strive  to  under- 
stand its  psychology.  Without  such  understanding 
it  is  not  possible  to  appreciate  the  true  character  or 
real  significance  of  its  power  over  the  lives  of  those 
who  are  part  of  it.  The  psychology  of  the  labor 
movement,  like  that  of  any  group,  is  complex  and 
overlapping  in  motives,  interests  and  ideals.  In 
addition  to  the  psychical  factors  characteristic  of  all 
group  behaviour,  such  as  imitation,  emulation,  the 
craving  for  conspicuousness,  leadership  and  per- 
sonal expression,  organized  labor  exhibits  a  few 
very  specific  and  peculiar  features  without  which 
it  would  not  be  the  vital  force  in  the  world  that  it  is. 
The  modern  wage  worker  is  propertyless.  He 
is  a  wanderer,  a  nomad.  He  has  no  hold  upon  the 
world  except  such  hold  as  his  job  may  imply — 
and  that  is  a  very  precarious  and  doubtful  one.  He 
belongs  to  no  place  in  particular — except  where 
he  happens  to  be  paying  rent  or  board.  He  is  not 

1  See  the  first  chapter  for  some  statistical  facts. 
45 


46  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

anchored.  Has  has  no  deep  roots  in  the  ground. 
He  does  not  grow  like  a  tree  or  fructify  in  a  hun- 
dred ways  like  a  farmer.  He  travels.  He  is  a 
constant  seeker  after  better  things.  He  shifts  from 
job  to  job,  from  factory  to  factory,  from  city  to 
city,  from  state  to  state,  and  frequently,  from  coun- 
try to  country.  No  place  holds  him  very  long.  He 
either  loses  his  job  or  tires  of  it.  It  becomes 
monotonous,  irksome,  unbearable.  Other  horizons 
— horizons  seen  through  a  newspaper  advertise- 
ment, a  tale  told  and  heard,  or  just  a  guess,  a  whim, 
a  hope,  an  expectation — anything  is  sufficient 
reason  for  a  man  chasing  his  own  soul  to  safety. 

So  he  wanders.  This  is  no  exaggerated  picture. 
Look  at  the  statistics  of  the  labor  turnover,  look  up 
the  number  of  migratory  workers,  the  number  of 
our  hoboes,  our  unemployed,  and  you  will  agree. 
To  wander  is  just  the  opposite  in  its  implication  to 
being  rooted  to  a  place,  a  home.  Just  as  to  the 
stabilized  farmer  all  things  have  a  sense  of  per- 
manence, so  for  the  worker  all  things  are  transitory. 
The  wanderer's  self  is  not  involved.  His  person- 
ality is  not  concerned.  All  things  he  does  are  things 
of  the  moment.  They  involve  nothing  that  is  vital 
or  basic.  He  is  primarily  shifting — shifting  after 
better  things,  after  the  security  of  a  home,  after 
more  congenial  surroundings.  He  does  not  build. 
He  cannot  do  so.  In  many  cases  he  has  lost  the 
sense  of  homemaking.  Where  he  still  possesses  the 
desire  and  the  hope  he  dare  not  and  cannot.  He 
dare  not  because  the  shifting  job  may  upset  all  his 
plans  and  make  all  his  labors  for  naught — he  can- 


LABOR  MOVEMENT  PSYCHOLOGY    47 

not  because  he  lacks  the  instruments,  the  time,  the 
place  and  the  means.  The  creative  personal  achieve- 
ment is  foreign  to  his  experience.  Neither  the  in- 
terest of  work,  the  boastfulness  in  a  job  well  done, 
the  satisfaction  of  having  carried  a  self-made  plan 
into  execution,  nor  the  joy  of  success,  neither  play 
nor  art,  neither  love  nor  pride,  enter  into  his  work. 
He  is  a  cog,  a  tool,  an  instrument.  He  is  not  crea- 
tive, conserving  and  careful.  Such  words  mean 
nothing  to  him.  The  present  is  accidental,  tran- 
sitional— the  future  holds  the  positive.  This  place 
is  but  a  station  on  the  road  toward  a  satisfactory 
"berth."  The  required  "berth,"  however,  is  always 
at  least  one  station  ahead — because  every  job  is  by 
and  large  monotonous,  uninteresting,  precarious 
and  one  of  which  he  tires  after  a  little  while.  The 
industrial  revolution  has  torn  the  worker  from  his 
moorings  and  set  his  body  adrift.  But  a  drifting 
body  tends  to  carry  with  it  a  restless  mind.  The 
search  after  a  physical  hold  that  will  be  permanent 
is  made  the  harder  by  the  growth  of  a  mind  that 
knows  nothing  of  the  conserving,  constructive  ex- 
perience which  is  the  heritage  of  people  who  own 
their  own  land.  The  picture  of  the  farmer's  life 
is  just  the  opposite  of  this. 

The  basic  difference  between  the  present  day 
worker  and  the  peasant  and  serf  of  the  past  is  the 
difference  between  stability  and  instability,  between 
security  and  insecurity,  between  regularity  and  ir- 
regularity. The  common  round  of  tasks  which  filled 
the  lives  of  the  peasant  from  day  to  day  and  year 
to  year  has  no  existence  for  the  mass  of  wage 


48  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

earners.  Life  for  the  wage  earners  is  more  haz- 
ardous, existence  more  precarious,  their  work  and 
habits  more  unsettled,  and  change  more  constant. 
Unemployment,  industrial  irregularity,  occupational 
accidents — all  of  these  have  their  influence  upon 
the  mind  of  the  worker.  Even  the  steadiest  temper, 
the  most  phlegmatic  and  least  adventurous  indi- 
vidual is  always  on  the  verge  of  being  set  adrift. 
Being  set  adrift  tends  to  have  the  same  general 
consequence  temperamentally  for  most  people — the 
gradual  acquisition  of  the  "casual  labor"  psychology. 
So  many  workers  are  drifting  constantly,  so  many 
others  have  their  regular  habits  and  customary  ex- 
istence undermined  by  unemployment  and  lay-offs 
that  even  those  who  remain  stationary  are  infected 
with  the  restlessness  characteristic  of  the  less  stable. 
Not  all  workers  are  actually  drifting.  Some  few 
employees  do  remain  in  the  same  firm  for  a  lifetime, 
but  they  are  very  few  in  comparison  with  those  who 
do  not  live  their  lives  in  one  single  setting.  Even 
those  who  prove  themselves  sufficiently  well  rooted 
to  stay  and  fulfill  their  allotted  calling  in  the  same 
small  round  of  daily  coming  and  going — even  those 
are  never  certain  of  the  day  when  this  security  will 
terminate.  If  there  were  no  other  element  of  danger 
than  the  competitive  and  shifting  market,  the  ad- 
venture of  ordinary  business  is  sufficient  in  itself 
to  give  the  sense  of  insecurity  —  even  if  rather 
distant  and  vague  to  the  most  happily  placed  worker. 
This  irregularity  of  employment  means  for  the 
worker  irregularity  of  income,  and  that  has  its  in- 
fluence upon  health  and  nourishment,  produces 


LABOR  MOVEMENT  PSYCHOLOGY    49 

overcrowding  and  bad  humor,  and  contributes  to 
aggravate  the  disgust  of  the  workers  with  the  world 
as  it  affects  their  daily  lives  and  well  being. 

A  qualification  similar  to  that  concerning  the  in- 
security of  the  worker  applies  to  his  non-possession 
of  property.  It  is  not  true  that  all  workers  are 
absolutely  propertyless.  Some  workers  own  their 
own  homes,  others  have  small  accounts  in  the  sav- 
ings banks,  and  a  few  have  stocks  and  bonds.  It 
must,  however,  be  remembered  that  the  ownership 
of  stocks  and  bonds,  or  having  some  money  in  the 
bank,  does  not  provide  the  means  of  activity  and 
joyful  enterprise  involved  in  the  ownership  of 
tangible  property  such  as  that  experienced  by  the 
farmer.  These  newer  and  intangible  possessions 
which  the  worker  does  upon  occasion  share  do  not 
provide  the  means  for  constant  concern  for  his  vital 
and  personal  experience.  It  does  not  make  of  itself 
for  the  development  of  stability,  nor  for  keeping 
the  worker  anchored  to  a  home,  nor  does  it  become 
the  basis  of  a  permanent  mooring  for  the  drifter. 
It  does  not,  generally  speaking,  give  him  a  material 
control  over  his  destiny. 

To  be  secure  in  the  hereditary  holding  of  a  bit 
of  land  as  was  the  peasant  of  two  centuries  ago  or 
to  own  it  as  the  farmer  does  to-day  is  to  be  bound 
up  with  something  in  a  most  significant  way.  It 
means  that  the  peasant  is  rooted  to  his  land.  He 
belongs  to  it  and  it  belongs  to  him  in  more  than  a 
legal  sense.  He  grows  with  the  growth  of  the  trees 
and  ages  with  the  house  that  he  helped  build  when 
a  boy.  A  thousand  memories,  a  thousand  joys  and 


50  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

little  things  done,  stand  guard  at  every  turn  and 
sanctify  his  existence.  Not  only  pride  in  the  past 
but  hope  for  the  future  fills  his  daily  existence  with 
countless  responsibilities.  The  house  needs  painting, 
and  new  stones  whitewashed  along  the  footpath 
would  make  the  house  prettier.  This  cow  which  he 
raised  and  of  which  he  is  so  proud  is  soon  to  calve, 
and  that  is  no  mean  responsibility.  What  is  true 
of  the  house  and  cow  and  footpath  is  true  of  many 
other  things  on  the  farm.  If  it  is  not  the  house, 
then  the  barn  may  need  thatching,  the  axe  sharpen- 
ing and  the  horse  shoeing.  If  it  is  spring  there  is 
the  prospect  of  the  manifold  responsibilities  of  the 
summer;  if  it  is  autumn  there  is  the  needed  prepara- 
tion for  the  winter,  the  storing  up  of  wood,  fodder, 
cider  and  fruits.  In  the  winter  the  good  farmer  has 
numerous  little  jobs  put  away  for  just  the  few  idle 
hours  that  can  be  spared  between  looking  after  the 
cattle,  the  horses,  the  pigs,  the  chickens,  the  cutting 
of  the  ice  and  the  shoveling  of  a  way  to  town 
through  drifted  and  overblown  roads  and  fences. 
This  is  no  dry  catalogue  of  mean  and  empty  tasks. 
Each  one  of  them  involves  the  farmer's  personality. 
Each  one  demands  and  at  least  now  and  then  actu- 
ally receives  the  interest,  the  love,  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  man  who  lives  his  life  in  his  own  little 
fenced-off  world. 

This  is  not  meant  to  be  an  idealization  of  the 
farmer's  life.  One  who  has  been  brought  up  on  a 
farm  knows  that  it  is  not  all  honey  and  flowers, 
bluebirds  and  green  grass.  The  life  on  a  farm  often 
involves  tribulations,  sorrows,  disappointments.  It 


LABOR  MOVEMENT  PSYCHOLOGY    51 

involves  things  badly  done  and  done  out  of  season. 
It  often  means  poverty,  ignorance,  loneliness,  and 
narrowed  and  blighted  lives.  But  all  these  things, 
good  and  bad,  all  the  joy  and  sorrow,  success  and 
disappointment,  are  centered  in  the  personality  of 
the  man.  His  work  is  part  of  his  personal  spiritual 
life;  his  family  is  a  constant  factor  in  his  work. 
His  wife  and  children  participate  in  the  toil  and 
fun  of  the  day.  The  man  plays  his  own  game. 
He  makes  the  rules.  He,  too,  sees  that  they  are 
executed  or  not — as  the  weather,  the  will,  or  the 
fancy  determine.  Variety,  differentiation,  interest, 
play,  love  for  animals,  pride  in  one's  work  in  the 
light  of  neighborly  opinion,  boastfulness  of  one's 
achievements,  exaggerated  hopes  of  one's  under- 
takings, cunning  wisdom  about  one's  own  trade, 
all  of  these  elements  find  their  place  and  do  their 
part  in  shaping  the  daily  life  of  the  farmer.  These 
things  carry  with  them  a  certain  positiveness  of 
character,  a  certain  rounded  self-assurance  about 
one's  own  tasks,  a  certain  pride  in  one's  orbit  of 
dominance  and  creation  which  the  instrumentalized 
factory  employee  does  not  know.  They  carry 
a  careful,  conserving,  constructive,  building  type  of 
mind — a  type  that  takes  pleasure  in  spending  the 
hour  after  the  regular  tasks  and  daily  chores  are 
done — the  hours  of  twilight  which  may  occasionally 
be  free  to  a  systematic  farmer — in  planting  shrubs 
around  the  house  or  in  adding  a  special  variety  of 
fruit  to  the  orchard. 

The  worker,  as  has  already  been  pointed  out, 
lacks  this  experience,  this  attitude  toward  life.     He 


52  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

is  restless,  dissatisfied,  and  in  search  of  different 
and  better  things.  This  constant  change  is  stim- 
ulated by  the  precariousness  of  the  average  worker's 
job.  He  not  only  leaves  his  job  but  he  is  often 
discharged  or  laid  off.  These  all  tend  toward  the 
same  effect.  The  constant  change  of  place  tends 
to  make  the  shifting  process  into  a  habit.  A  habit- 
ually shifting  life  carries  little  that  is  fruitful  and 
satisfying,  that  appeases  and  completes  it. 

Instability  for  the  individual  means  lack  of  reg- 
ularity, and  for  society  as  a  whole  it  means  con- 
stant friction,  constant  change,  constant  upsetting 
of  old  standards  and  the  increasing  difficulty  of 
creating  new  ones.  The  older  agricultural  economy 
which  the  industrial  revolution  upset  was  one  that 
lent  itself  to  the  growth  of  custom,  habit  and  tradi- 
tion. Order,  regularity,  system,  and  repetition  of 
the  tasks  of  yesteryear  were  the  prevailing  forces  in 
the  world  before  the  machine  tore  mankind  from 
its  traditional  mode  of  life  and  labor.  For  thou- 
sands of  years  men  lived  lives  defined  by  custom  and 
made  familiar  by  habit.  The  weight  of  centuries 
of  traditional  method  was  involved  in  each  task 
done  and  in  each  plan  made.  A  hundred  centuries 
of  routine  dominated  social  organization.  Men  felt 
safe  and  comfortable  in  the  knowledge  and  sureness 
of  previous  procedure.  Men  accepted  the  world 
they  lived  in  with  but  little  questioning.  Doubt — 
the  doubt  of  the  wisdom  and  propriety  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  things  were  done — was  not  so  keen, 
so  widespread  and  so  distinct  an  aspect  of  the  world 
in  which  men  found  themselves.  Mental  discomfort 


LABOR  MOVEMENT  PSYCHOLOGY    53 

was  at  its  minimum.  This  has  all  been  changed. 
The  premium  instead  of  being  on  the  traditional 
has  been  transferred  to  the  novel.  New  things, 
new  ways,  new  methods,  new  explanations,  new 
procedure,  are  the  demands  and  the  expectations 
that  fill  our  daily  lives.  Ours  is  above  all  a  dynamic 
age — and  it  is  dynamic  not  only  in  terms  of  new 
mechanical  processes  but  in  terms  of  new  relation- 
ships, which  these  new  processes  enforce  upon 
society.  All  of  these  forces  compel  a  re-valuation 
of  accepted  values  and  contribute  both  to  the  agita- 
tion of  the  mind  and  to  the  discomfort  of  the  body. 
To  this  fact  of  change  and  irresponsibility  there 
is  to  be  added  another  important  element  in  the 
worker's  life — his  keener,  more  vivid  and  more 
constant  sense  of  insufficiency.  This  is  very  im- 
portant, and  to  understand  it  we  are  to  grasp  fully 
the  significance  of  a  certain  contradiction  in  our 
present  world.  The  industrial  revolution  among  its 
many  other  contributions  to  our  working  order  has 
added  a  peculiar  paradox,  a  paradox  involving  the 
approximate  equalization  of  the  imagination  of  men 
at  the  very  time  when  inequality  of  possession  was 
increased.  Men  are  both  more  equal  and  more 
unequal  than  ever  before  in  the  history  of  the  world. 
They  are  more  equal  as  men  and  less  equal  as 
possessors  of  material  wealth.  The  imagination, 
the  background  of  basic  information  and  the  sense 
of  values,  of  needs  and  of  qualitative  understanding, 
is  more  nearly  on  a  level  than  ever  before.  At  the 
same  time,  however,  income,  ownership,  is  less 
equally  divided  amongst  men  than  ever  before. 


54  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

Actually,  men  desire  more  because  they  know  more, 
but  they  satisfy  these  desires  less,  comparatively, 
than  when  their  needs  were  more  limited. 

The  inequality  of  wealth  is  extraordinary.  A 
single  illustration  will  do.  Nine-tenths  of  the  wealth 
in  Great  Britain  is  possessed  by  less  than  one-tenth 
of  the  population.  To  place  this  graphically  before 
the  imagination,  all  one  has  to  do  is  picture  a  divi- 
sion of  one  hundred  dollars  amongst  ten  men  on  this 
basis.  One  man  would  get  ninety-one  dollars  and 
the  other  nine,  one  dollar  each.  This  is  not  quite 
correct,  as  the  actual  division  is  even  more  extreme. 
Ninety  dollars  would  go  to  less  than  one  person  if 
such  a  thing  were  possible.  This  is  a  striking  fact, 
one  that  the  annals  of  English  history  cannot  dup- 
licate. It  is  unique  historically.  What  is  true  of 
England  is  true  in  a  less  degree  of  the  United  States. 

Never  in  the  world  have  the  poverty  and  riches 
of  the  migratory  worker  on  the  one  hand  and  the 
multi-millionaire  on  the  other  existed  side  by  side. 
Poverty  is  relative.  Absolute  poverty  is  rare.  A 
beggar  is  infinitely  richer  than  he  who  owns  no- 
thing. The  beggar  generally  possesses  a  torn  suit  of 
clothes  and  a  leaky  pair  of  shoes.  That  is  not  much, 
it  is  true,  but  it  is  something.  He  may  be  said  to 
be  on  his  way  from  absolute  poverty  to  absolute 
riches.  But  he  has  a  long  way  to  travel.  The 
peasant  in  the  France  of  Louis  XIV,  the  serf 
serving  the  estates  of  Henry  VI  of  England,  or  the 
slave  on  our  Southern  plantations  was  richer  re- 
latively than  is  the  modern  migratory  worker — 
richer  at  least  in  the  possession  of  security.  I  am 


LABOR  MOVEMENT  PSYCHOLOGY    55 

speaking  comparatively;  unless  the  ability  to  read 
and  to  ride  a  box  car  is  considered  a  kind  of  wealth, 
one  might  almost  say  that  the  wandering  worker 
is  actually  poorer. 

The  full  significance  of  this  inequality  comes 
from  its  opposite — the  greater  imaginative  equality 
that  has  accompanied  this  cumulative  differentiation 
in  worldly  goods.  It  is  remarkable  how  much  like 
each  other  men  are  to-day — remarkable  when  wre 
think  of  the  differences  that  separated  them  before. 
The  millionaire  and  the  beggar  both  read  the  New 
York  Times.  The  beggar  feels  and  is  more  like 
the  millionaire  than  the  serf  ever  was  like  his  master. 
They  see  the  same  "movies,"  read  the  same  maga- 
zines, are  thrilled  by  the  same  daily  occurrences, 
and  show  the  same  intelligence,  on  an  average,  in 
their  judgment  of  world-important  facts,  and  are 
often  equally  interested  in  them.  There  is  no  quali- 
tative differentiation.  The  difference  is  one  of  gold, 
and  that  is  not  spiritual.  It  is  a  difference  of  degree 
and  not  of  kind.  The  poor  do  not  feel  the  awe  or 
humility  before  the  millionaire  that  used  to  be  char- 
acteristic of  the  lower  classes.  They  are  conscious 
of  their  equality.  It  only  makes  the  difference  one 
that  rankles  because  it  is  obvious,  because  it  limits 
the  powers  of  satisfying  a  stimulated  imagination 
and  the  demands  this  imagination  makes  upon  the 
world. 

The  peasant  had  little.  He  lived,  however,  on  a 
plane,  imaginatively,  very  much  lower  than  his  lord. 
He  knew  and  saw  little  of  the  broader  relations  and 
implications  of  life.  He  did  not  share  so  fully  the 


56  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

ripened  thought  and  experience  of  his  age  as  does 
the  present  day  worker.  He  wanted  less  both  com- 
paratively and  actually.  To-day  the  worker  wants 
actually  more  and  secures  comparatively  less.  He 
feels  this  greater  difference  the  more  keenly  just 
because  he  is  on  a  basis  of  greater  spiritual  equality 
with  his  richer  and  more  fortunate  employer.  This 
makes  dissatisfaction  with  the  present  greater  and 
the  hope  for  a  fuller,  richer  and  more  satisfying 
life  more  acute,  more  insistent,  and  more  pressing. 
It  stimulates  the  wandering,  searching,  yearning 
aspect  of  the  worker's  existence.  It  is  a  constant 
stimulus  to  restlessness.  It  is  an  important  con- 
tribution to  the  worker's  discontent  and  an  element 
that  goes  into  the  making  of  the  worker's 
psychology. 

The  equality  of  which  I  am  speaking  is  different 
from  equality  before  the  law,  or  from  that  implied 
in  the  equal  rights  to  hold  property,  to  travel,  or 
even  the  equal  right  in  the  pursuit  of  happiness. 
It  is  a  greater  social  and  spiritual  equality.  It 
manifests  itself  in  the  similarity  of  clothing,  dress, 
home  and  amusement,  in  education,  reading  matter, 
customs,  political  ties  and  social  habits.  It  is  an 
approximation  of  equality  in  all  things  except 
money — and  it  makes  that  one  variant  very  con- 
spicuous. The  separation  between  man  and  man 
has  become  more  objectionable  just  because  it  has 
been  so  simplified.  It  makes  the  worker's  life  ob- 
viously incomplete,  his  insufficiencies  more  con- 
scious, and  his  blame  more  immediate.  This  has 
made  the  desire  for  an  adjustment  more  vivid.  I 


LABOR  MOVEMENT  PSYCHOLOGY    57 

am  not  implying  that  the  individual  variation  has 
been  eliminated.  If  anything,  that  has  probably 
been  increased.  The  differences  between  the  classes 
have  been  diminished  in  most  respects  excepting 
that  of  possession,  and  that  rankles  in  the  mind  of 
the  worker  because  it  is  the  obvious  limitation  upon 
his  further  growth  and  development.  It  presses  and 
gnaws  against  his  greater  demands  for  expansion, 
for  actual  equalization  in  terms  of  experience  and 
satisfaction.  It  makes  for  discontent,  for  bitter- 
ness, and  for  the  desire  to  change  the  world.  The 
wandering  temper  and  habit,  the  dynamic  character 
of  our  civilization,  and  the  greater  imaginative 
equality  determine  the  general  background  for  the 
development  of  the  peculiar  manifestation  of  the 
worker's  psychology. 

The  first  of  these  peculiar  elements  is  his  aversion, 
his  constant  and  almost  irresponsible  disgust  for 
the  mechanical,  routine,  oppressive  and  dehuman- 
izing nature  of  the  daily  function.  This  fact  cannot 
be  overemphasized.  No  reiteration  is  too  vehement 
to  express  the  hopeless  feeling  of  loathing  for  the 
machine  and  the  monotony  that  it  forces  upon  the 
workers  —  the  constant  drilling  of  unchanging 
motion,  a  never-ending  repetition  that  destroys  all 
interest  and  kills  all  creative  effort.  This  feeling 
of  hatred  is  doubly  strong  because  it  is  constant 
and,  for  the  worker,  infinite  and  without  escape.  It 
is  a  hatred  born  of  instinct  and  not  of  understanding 
or  analysis.  The  analysis  and  understanding  may 
come  later  and  supply  the  drive  for  revolutionary 
temper  and  enthusiasm.  But  with  the  average 


58  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

worker — conservative  and  radical — it  is  an  instinct- 
ive resistance  against  suppression  of  the  freedom 
for  play,  for  interest,  for  creativeness.  For  all  men 
are  in  their  own  spontaneous  way  artists  and  cre- 
ators, and  the  curse  of  the  machine  is  that  it  stand- 
ardizes thought  and  kills  it,  standardizes  emotion 
and  destroys  it,  standardizes  the  artistic  sense  and 
annihilates  it. 

One  day  while  doing  some  organizing  work  along 
the  waterfront  I  came  across  a  typical  labor  group 
— a  group  of  longshoremen  carting  heavy  boxes 
on  their  little  two-wheel  hand  carts.  They  were  a 
typical  labor  group  of  America — typical  because 
they  were  of  all  nations  and  of  all  races.  In  that 
small  force  of  about  fifty  men  there  were  Italians, 
Irishmen,  Polacks,  Jews,  Russians  and  men  of  other 
nations.  In  their  midst  stood  a  foreman,  a  big, 
burly  fellow.  He  stood  there  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  tall,  blonde,  with  a  heavy  voice  that  was 
harsh  and  snappy,  and  all  he  did  was  to  repeat 
without  end  one  single  phrase,  "Hurry  up,  hurry 
up,  hurry  up,"  a  phrase  that  fell  with  the  regularity 
of  a  clock  upon  the  ears  of  the  working  group  and 
at  the  sound  of  which  the  men  bent  their  heads  a 
little  lower  and  quickened  their  step  as  if  stung  by 
a  whip.  Every  half  minute  or  so  he  repeated  the 
same  command.  It  was  never  varied ;  it  was  never 
changed.  The  words  were  the  same,  the  tone  and 
inflection  were  the  same.  The  men,  like  whipped 
dogs,  only  bent  their  heads  a  little  lower  at  each 
command  and  made  a  quicker  motion  with  their 
feet.  Occasionally  there  was  evident  a  gleam  of 


LABOR  MOVEMENT  PSYCHOLOGY    59 

hatred,  of  bitterness  and  of  despair  on  the  part  of 
some  of  the  men.  But  as  a  whole  they  submitted. 
They  submitted  because  their  submission  was  in- 
evitable. 

It  was  inevitable  because  the  single  worker  is 
helpless ;  these  men  were  not  organized.  One  of  the 
reasons  why  they  were  not  organized  was  that  this 
lashing  had  driven  all  ambition,  all  energy,  all  initi- 
ative out  of  them  and  made  them  helpless  and  fit 
only  for  despair  and  an  early  grave.  The  water- 
front is  characteristic  of  other  labor  centers,  only 
that  the  machine  is  duller  and  its  sound  harsher 
than  the  human  voice.  I  am  not  imputing  personal 
bias  to  the  foreman.  He  simply  represents  the  pro- 
cess of  reducing  the  worker's  activity  to  mechanical 
standards. 

What  the  mechanical  work  required  by  a  modern 
industry  is,  and  what  its  significance  may  be,  is 
illustrated  by  numerous  available  descriptions,  but 
we  will  content  ourselves  with  only  one.  "An  eye- 
witness at  the  Stock  Yards  describes  a  scene  in  one 
of  the  large  packing  houses.  'A  month  ago,'  he 
says,  'we  stood  with  a  superintendent  in  a  room  of 
the  canning  department.  Down  both  sides  of  a  long 
table  stood  twenty  immigrant  women;  most  of 
them  visibly  middle-aged  and  mothers." 

"Look  at  that  Slovak  woman,"  said  the  super- 
intendent. 

She  stood  bending  slightly  forward,  her  dull  eyes 
straining  down,  her  elbow  jerking  back  and  forth, 
her  hands  jumping  in  nervous  haste  to  keep  up  with 
the  gang.  These  hands  made  one  simple  precise 


60  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

motion  each  second,  3600  an  hour,  and  all  exactly 
the  same. 

"She  is  one  of  the  best  workers  we  have,"  the 
superintendent  was  saying.  We  moved  closer  and 
glanced  at  her  face.  Then  we  saw  the  strange  con- 
trast. The  hands  were  swift,  precise,  intelligent. 
The  face  was  stolid,  vague,  vacant.  "It  took  a  long 
time  to  pound  the  idea  into  her  head,"  the  super- 
intendent continued,  "but  when  this  grade  of 
woman  once  absorbs  an  idea  she  holds  it.  She  is 
too  stupid  to  vary.  She  seems  to  have  no  other 
thought  to  distract  her.  She  is  a  sure  machine. 
For  much  of  our  work  this  woman  is  the  kind  we 
want.  Her  mind  is  on  the  table."  2 

One  who  knows  anything  about  the  European 
peasant  woman  cannot  accept  the  placid  description 
of  the  superintendent.  A  mother  and  a  middle- 
aged  woman  who  had  traveled  across  two  contin- 
ents and  had  the  initiative  to  seek  a  new  home  is 
not  the  type  whose  mind  is  on  the  table.  What 
share  the  working  at  this  speed  and  monotony  had 
in  placing  the  mind  on  the  table  we  will  leave  the 
reader  to  judge  for  himself.  We  do  not  insist  that 
all  foremen  are  such  as  we  described  or  that  all 
factory  work  is  of  exactly  the  kind  done  by  this 
particular  woman.  But  life  for  the  workers  is 
sufficiently  strained  in  their  working  hours  to  have 
this  general  effect. 

This  drive,  this  impetus,  this  drilling  helps  to 
explain  a  great  many  things  in  the  lives  of  the 

*  Posthumous  article  of  Prof.  Carlton  Parker  in  the  At- 
lantic Monthly  for  March  1920. 


LABOR  MOVEMENT  PSYCHOLOGY    61 

workers.  It  suppresses  personality.  Personality, 
however,  will  not  be  suppressed  without  some  re- 
bellion. It  helps  to  explain  the  hobo  who  will  not 
submit,  the  derelict  who  cannot  endure  and  breaks 
down,  not  having  been  created  to  pass  through  this 
crucible  of  speed,  monotony  and  impersonal  activity, 
like  a  cog  that  whirls  without  end  and  without  un- 
derstanding. It  helps  to  explain  the  lower  criminal 
classes,  "the  submerged  tenth"  that  seeks  a  life  of 
ease  and  parasitism  rather  than  submit  to  being 
crushed  and  disfigured  in  soul  and  body  by  a  mean- 
ingless machine.  It  helps,  too,  to  explain  the  love, 
the  passion,  the  bitterness  and  the  idealism  that  is 
found  in  so  large  a  measure  in  the  labor  movement. 
It  helps  to  explain  it  because  in  the  labor  movement 
the  worker  finds  relief  from  monotony,  opportunity 
for  expression,  place  for  play  and  individuality. 
This  service  to  the  man  who  works  in  our  modern 
industry  is  one  of  the  great  functions  of  the  labor 
movement.  I  do  not  mean  the  conscious  intellectual 
participation  of  the  worker  in  the  labor  movement 
and  in  its  ideals,  but  rather  the  fact  that  the  labor 
movement  saves  the  worker  from  intellectual  and 
spiritual  petrification,  that  it  saves  him  from  drying 
up  spiritually,  and  that  this  unconscious  function, 
this  by-product  of  the  normal  activities  of  labor 
organization,  explains  a  great  deal  of  the  passion, 
the  love  and  the  idealism  that  is  connected  with  it. 
The  other  element  in  the  psychology  of  labor  is 
born  of  conscious  strife.  The  labor  movement  is 
still  to  a  large  extent  a  movement  struggling  for 
existence.  As  a  consciously  creative  movement  it 


62  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

is  still  in  its  early  stages,  its  positive  creative  aspects 
being  chiefly  by-products.  This  conscious  struggle 
against  an  organized  and  powerful  opposition  cul- 
minates in  ''class  consciousness."  I  am  not  speak- 
ing here  of  the  theory  of  the  class  struggle — I  am 
speaking  of  the  fact  as  the  workers  know  it.  Hun- 
dreds and  thousands  of  workers  are  class-conscious 
without  ever  having  heard  of  Marx  and  without 
coming  in  contact  with  the  doctrine  as  such.  They 
are  class-conscious  because  their  struggles  for  ex- 
istence and  their  desire  to  escape  from  oppression 
and  monotony,  find  constant  opposition. 

I  know  of  men  who  would  not  be  called  I.  W. 
W.'s,  who  talk  with  a  hatred  of  the  capitalists  and 
the  capitalist  system  much  more  emotional  and  bit- 
ter than  that  which  any  revolutionary  worker  con- 
scious of  the  ideals  of  the  labor  movement  indulges 
in.  I  know  good  patriotic  workers  who  could  not 
be  called  socialist  by  any  stretch  of  the  imagination 
— if  socialism  implies  a  conscious  rejection  of  the 
present  system  and  the  acceptance  of  another  where 
the  wage  system  has  no  existence — who  indulge  in 
revolutionary  talk  and  (unconsciously)  in  revolu- 
tionary activities.  They  hate  the  present  world  be- 
cause they  have  so  little  share  in  its  control  and 
because  they  are  outside  the  sphere  that  participates 
in  the  manipulation  of  the  forces  dominating  their 
lives  and  activities.  Men  who  have  been  on  strike, 
who  have  been  clubbed  by  the  police,  who  have  been 
driven  by  the  militia  and  who  have  been  persecuted, 
know  something  about  the  facts  of  the  class  struggle 
even  if  they  know  little  about  its  theories. 


LABOR  MOVEMENT  PSYCHOLOGY    63 

The  element  of  importance  that  is  subsidiary  to 
the  two  just  described — the  instinctive  opposition 
to  the  mechanical  suppression  that  is  characteristic 
of  the  machine  and  the  feeling  of  class  hatred — is 
the  intellectual  and  critical  nature  of  the  labor  move- 
ment. There  is  a  general  conviction  among 
thoughtful  workers  that  the  present  world  works 
badly ;  that  it  is  poorly  organized ;  that  unemploy- 
ment, poverty,  ignorance,  social  injustice,  are  things 
which  intelligent  control  and  ordinary  good  human 
intentions  could  prevent  if  only  there  were  the  will 
and  the  desire  that  they  be  prevented. 

This  conviction  is  strong,  and  the  strength  of 
the  conviction  is  in  proportion  to  the  revolution- 
ary idealism  of  the  workers.  This  conviction  leads 
to  the  conclusion  that  the  present  system  is  not  only 
bad  but  is  kept  so  by  the  perfidy  and  selfishness  of 
the  powers  who  are  benefiting  by  the  present  system. 
It  thus  adds  to  the  hatred  and  to  the  instinctive 
opposition  against  being  reduced  to  mechanical 
instruments  by  the  machine,  the  belief  in  the  villain- 
ous character  of  the  capitalists  as  a  class,  a  con- 
viction that  adds  contempt  to  hatred  and  leaves  a 
constant  bitterness  that  knows  no  end. 

Opposition  by  the  capitalists — an  opposition  that 
is  based  often  upon  ignorance  and  generally  upon 
selfishness  and  class  standards — makes  for  a  con- 
stant aggravation  of  this  bitterness.  This  opposi- 
tion, where  successful,  has  other  consequences  than 
that  assumed  by  the  employers.  It  prevents  organ- 
ization. But  organization  is  education,  is  disci- 
pline, is  group  control,  is  sense  of  power  and 


64  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

influence.  Lack  of  organization  is  not  lack  of 
discontent  or  lack  of  hatred.  It  is  lack  of  social 
cohesion,  lack  of  group  activity.  It  means  that 
deliberation,  planning  and  direction  are  eliminated. 
It  means  power — the  power  of  the  mob — without 
conscious  coordination.  The  labor  movement  is 
opposed  to  the  mob  and  mob  activity  and  is  sup- 
planted by  it  only  in  despair.  The  labor  movement 
desires  change  but  it  aims  at  a  change  that  involves 
as  little  friction  as  possible,  the  amount  of  friction 
being  always  determined  by  the  strength  and  bitter- 
ness of  the  opposition. 

I  cannot  leave  the  general  discussion  of  the 
psychology  of  the  labor  movement  without  describ- 
ing the  function  of  organized  labor  as  it  affects 
the  centering  of  the  worker's  interests  upon  the 
problems  concerning  him  most  vitally.  The  psycho- 
logical maladjustment  of  the  worker  makes  him 
an  easy  prey  to  all  kinds  of  emotional  appeals. 
Uneducated  as  he  often  is,  lacking  both  the  time 
and  the  training  required  to  make  an  analysis  of 
the  evils  and  the  forces  with  which  he  is  confronted, 
the  worker  is  apt  to  accept  any  easy  and  ready 
rationalization  of  the  world  and  its  implications. 
This  in  particular  if  it  provides  an  easy  escape  and 
emotional  outlet  from  his  pent-up  and  suppressed 
activity.  The  excitement  and  rationalization  of  a 
Billy  Sunday  meeting,  a  Holy-Roller  exultant  dis- 
sipation, leaves  the  worker  both  exhausted  and 
momentarily  relieved  from  the  gnawing  of  the 
forces  about  him.  In  a  minor  degree  this  service 
is  performed  by  dime  novels,  drink,  baseball  scores, 


LABOR  MOVEMENT  PSYCHOLOGY    65 

moving  pictures  and  political  excitement.  Any 
rationalization,  any  explanation,  any  drawing  out 
of  interest,  of  emotion,  of  the  sense  of  play  and 
creative  activity  mitigates  the  feeling  of  oppression 
produced  upon  the  workers  by  their  monotonous 
existence.  Political  movements  achieve  the  same 
end.  They  serve  chiefly  in  taking  the  worker's 
attention  from  his  immediate  problems  and  center- 
ing them  either  as  a  rationalization  or  as  a  means 
of  emotional  dissipation  in  things  that  are  not  of 
pertinence  in  his  daily  life. 

The  Socialist  Party  differs  from  other  political 
organizations  in  that  it  concerns  itself  consciously 
about  those  things  which  seem  to  be  most  vital  to 
the  worker's  life  and  labor.  By  its  agitation  it 
helps  to  crystallize  discontent,  gives  it  meaning  and 
sets  for  it  a  definite  goal.  It  must,  however,  be 
noted  that  the  Socialist  Party  concerns  itself  about 
those  problems  rather  than  with  them.  It  tends  to 
postpone  immediate  activity  by  centering  interest 
in  things  outside  the  sphere  of  daily  contact  and 
function  in  which  the  worker  operates,  and  it  thus 
in  a  measurable  degree  unconsciously  participates 
in  the  work  performed  by  all  other  agencies  that  go 
to  distract  the  worker's  attention  from  his  im- 
mediate problems.  It  is  here  that  the  labor  move- 
ment per  se  becomes  most  significant. 

The  labor  movement  provides  an  emotional  out- 
let. It  provides  room  for  creative  activity.  It  gives 
play  to  all  of  the  instincts  and  passions  that  are 
characteristic  of  human  nature.  But  it  does  all 
these  things  in  terms  of  the  values,  functions  and 


66  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

problems  with  which  the  worker  is  always  called 
upon  to  deal.  It  keeps  the  workers  mind  always 
centered  upon  the  core  of  his  difficulties.  It  prevents 
distraction,  loss  of  emotion  and  energy.  It  makes 
significant  to  the  worker  the  thing  with  which  he 
deals  as  a  member  of  the  community  and  through 
which  the  worker  acquires  social  significance — his 
work.  It  thus  provides  the  means  of  escape  from 
suppression  and  this  emotional  outlet  becomes  in 
itself  contributory  to  the  final  solution  of  the  prob- 
lem which  is  the  chief  cause  of  the  workers'  evils — 
industrial  autocracy. 


PART  II 

Methods 


67 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  BREAK  OF  THE  CIRCLE 

PROFESSOR  HOBSON,  in  his  little  volume 
on  "Democracy  after  the  War,"  has  a  remark- 
able chapter  entitled  "The  Closed  System."  In  this 
chapter  he  shows  that  the  capitalistic  world  is  a 
hydra-headed,  multicellular  and  interlocked  organ- 
ization in  which  every  feature  is  dependent  upon 
and  supported  by  every  other.  The  imperialist,  the 
protectionist,  the  militarist,  the  financier,  the  poli- 
tician, are  all  interlocked.  It  is  useless,  as  he  points 
out,  to  attack  any  one  of  these  separately  in  the 
hope  of  destroying  it.  If  the  evils  of  the  world  of 
capitalism  are  to  be  eliminated,  every  feature  in  it 
must  be  subjected  to  a  simultaneous  and  united 
attack.  He  reads  the  reformer,  the  specialist,  the 
man  with  a  particular  hobby,  a  lesson  which  ought 
to  be  convincing  to  the  point  of  action  and  union 
among  the  various  forces  that  would  eliminate  the 
evils  resulting  from  the  capitalist  system. 

The  labor  movement  is  generally  conceded  to  be 
the  most  powerful  single  force  in  the  struggle  to 
break  the  vicious  circle.  It  is  most  powerful  for 
many  reasons,  one  of  the  obvious  reasons  being  that 

69 


70  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

the  struggle  on  the  part  of  the  labor  movement  is 
most  persistent  and  most  constant.  Instead  of  being 
impelled,  as  are  many  reform  and  even  revolution- 
ary groups  and  individuals,  by  idealistic  motives 
and  theoretical  considerations,  the  labor  movement 
lives  and  works  by  the  constant  necessity  of  self- 
defence  which  the  present  system  imposes  upon  it. 
This  is  a  much  more  forceful  and  pertinent  factor 
in  its  activities  than  any  idealistic,  moral  or  political 
consideration.  I  do  not  want  to  be  accused  of 
undervaluing  the  moral,  socially  minded  and  ideal 
or  revolutionary  motivation  which  is  the  driving 
force  behind  a  good  many  reform  and  revolutionary 
activities.  All  I  insist  upon  is  that  they  do  not 
compare  in  persistency,  stubbornness  and  drive  with 
the  force  which  the  labor  movement,  no  matter  how 
conservative,  carries  with  it. 

The  labor  movement  is  the  wall  of  protection 
which  the  individual  worker  has  developed  through 
group  organization  in  the  face  of  a  merciless  com- 
petitive system  that  reduces  him  to  a  bought  "hand" 
to  be  discarded  and  thrown  away  when  it  has  grown 
weak,  profitless  or  old.  Between  absolute  helpless- 
ness and  despair  on  the  part  of  the  worker  and 
such  protection  and  defense  as  he  has  there  is  prac- 
tically nothing  except  the  strength  of  his  organ- 
ization. It  is  this  fact  that  makes  the  labor  move- 
ment the  most  constant  force  for  social  change  in 
the  community,  for  the  present  world  is  in  a  con- 
spiracy, conscious  or  unconscious,  against  the  gains 
and  the  achievements  of  the  workers'  organizations. 
This  conspiracy  is  bound  up  with  the  competitive 


THE  BREAK  OF  THE  CIRCLE         71 

system  and  can  apparently  come  to  an  end  only  with 
its  destruction.  This  is  one  reason,  and  probably 
the  most  powerful  single  reason,  why  all  labor  must 
of  necessity  be  revolutionary  in  fact  through  the 
elimination  of  competition  which  threatens  its  very 
existence  every  day  of  the  week.  It  must  be  obvious 
that  this  is  so  under  the  present  scheme  of  things. 
While  competition  lasts  it  may  be,  and  in  fact 
generally  is,  to  the  advantage  of  any  given  employer 
or  on  occasion  to  an  individual  worker  to  disregard, 
evade  or  deny  the  rules,  regulations,  conventions, 
and  principles  achieved  and  enforced  by  the  organ- 
ized labor  movement.  The  competitive  system  gives 
advantage  to  him  who  can  escape  the  rules  that  bind 
the  group  with  which  he  is  associated,  and  the  labor 
movement  is  but  an  organization  set  around  the 
enforcement  of  standards  and  rules  which  it  asserts 
from  time  to  time.  It  is  this  constant  struggle  of 
competition  to  undermine  the  control  and  power 
of  the  organized  labor  group  which  makes  labor 
always  on  the  aggressive,  always  on  the  lookout, 
always  suspicious,  always  insistent  upon  more 
power.  This  is,  of  course,  not  the  only  motive, 
nor  is  greater  power  the  only  consequence,  but  it  is 
very  generally  the  most  immediate  one. 

Just  as  the  capitalist  system  is  a  circle  of  pre- 
datory interests  closely  knit  together,  so  the  labor 
movement  tends  to  become  a  closely  organized  and 
united  group  of  defensive  and  aggressive  activities 
set  within  and  against  the  capitalist  system.  It  is 
not  necessary  to  exhort  the  labor  movement  to  unite 
against  the  capitalistic  system.  No  moral  appeal  is 


72  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

needed  except  to  hasten  such  unity,  for  the  nature 
of  its  activities  and  the  character  of  its  struggles 
enforce  unity  at  the  point  of  defeat. 

I  am  not  oblivious  to  the  shortcomings  of  the 
labor  movement  in  point  of  organization.  I  know 
but  too  well  its  jealousies,  its  short-sightedness,  and 
its  bickerings  over  petty  things.  What  is  obvious, 
however,  is  that  without  planning  it  finds  itself 
generally  uniting  and  developing  instruments  for 
common  action,  not  because  it  has  in  mind  the 
destruction  of  capitalism  but  because  a  struggle  with 
a  competitive  system  compels  it  to  parallel  at  all 
points  the  methods  of  defence  which  the  capitalist 
system  has  developed. 

The  instruments  which  the  labor  movement  is 
developing  in  its  struggle  against  capitalism  and 
with  which  it  is  paralleling  the  structure  of  capital- 
istic society  may  be  divided  into  two  kinds — the 
direct  and  the  indirect.  They  may  also  be  described 
as  the  instruments  of  aggression  and  defence.  The 
capitalist  system  developed  as  a  competitive  system, 
and  it  insisted  and  still  does  insist  upon  competition 
among  workers.  The  labor  movement,  however, 
has  developed  on  a  cooperative  basis.  It  substitutes 
collective  bargaining  for  individual  bargaining. 
Competition  is  replaced  by  cooperation.  This  is  the 
first  striking  parallelism  in  the  growth  and  structure 
of  labor  organization.  The  basic  principles  of 
activity  are  directly  opposite,  at  least  in  theory, 
and  approximate  each  other  in  practice :  collectivism 
for  individualism,  cooperation  for  competition. 

The  growth  of  capitalism  into  large  trusts,  into 


THE  BREAK  OF  THE  CIRCLE         73 

mighty  national  and  organic  groupings  covering 
the  raw  materials  and  the  manufactured  product 
was  paralleled  by  the  growth  of  international 
unions,  and  now  these  unions  are  very  rapidly  de- 
veloping into  industrial  unions.  The  Steel  Trust  is 
paralleled  by  the  Amalgamated  Steel  Workers 
Union  which  covers  the  whole  industry  and  all  of  its 
trades  and  combines  them  into  one  organization. 
The  railways,  growing  into  large  national  and  in- 
ternational organizations  more  and  more  dominated 
and  controlled  by  single  financial  groups,  are 
paralleled  by  the  growth  of  the  four  railway 
Brotherhoods  and  the  Railway  Department  .of  the 
American  Federation  of  Labor.  As  capitalism  be- 
comes more  unified,  labor  immediately  tends  to 
follow  the  same  lines  of  unity.  The  chamber  of 
commerce  is  set  off  against  the  National  Trade  and 
Industrial  organizations  of  a  labor  congress.  When 
capitalism  becomes  international  it  is  faced  with  an 
ever  more  powerful  international  labor  organization. 
That  capitalists  have  achieved  greater  cohesiveness, 
greater  unity,  both  national  and  international,  is  to 
be  explained  by  their  very  much  greater  mobility, 
education  and  foresight,  and  by  their  fewer  num- 
bers. Labor  has  the  difficulties  of  language,  ignor- 
ance, prejudice  and  provincialism  to  deal  with.  He 
would  have  to  be  a  bold  man  indeed,  however,  who 
would  deny  that  all  of  these  handicaps  are  con- 
stantly losing  their  force  and  power  and  are 
constantly  becoming  less  significant  in  the  growth 
of  the  power  of  the  labor  movement. 

The  most  striking  evidence  is  the  present  phenom- 


74  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

enal  spread  of  international  solidarity  on  the  part 
of  labor.  Not  only  are  strikes  often  given  inter- 
national financial  support,  but  there  is  constant 
evidence  of  definite  economic  cooperation.  Labor 
is  in  many  places  convinced  that  the  attack  upon 
Russia  is  engineered  by  the  same  financial  groups 
that  are  most  antagonistic  to  them  at  home,  and 
they  have  attempted  to  meet  these  powers  through 
international  strikes.  The  fact  that  these  strikes 
have  proved  abortive  simply  goes  to  show  that  labor 
has  not  overcome  all  of  its  obstacles.  It  does  not 
prove  that  the  trend  towards  international  working 
class  solidarity  is  absent  or  that  the  consciousness 
of  international  solidarity  is  not  developing.  When 
American  longshoremen  refuse  to  load  ships  with 
ammunition  because  they  believe  that  they  will  be 
used  to  fight  Russian  workers ;  when  Italian  sailors 
compel  their  captain  to  put  into  port  with  a  ship 
carrying  rifles  meant  for  Siberia  because  of  the 
same  reason;  when  Scandinavian  workers  refuse 
to  handle  ammunition  for  Russia  for  the  same 
reason,  it  seems  evident  that  international  capital- 
ism is  tending  to  be  met  on  an  international  scale 
by  an  internationally  conscious  labor  movement. 
The  other  element  in  the  direct  and  aggressive 
method  is  the  establishment  of  a  labor  press.  The 
workers  are  convinced  that  the  labor  movement  is 
not  fairly  represented  by  the  press  of  the  day  and 
so  is  developing  a  press  of  its  own.  Every  Inter- 
national Union  generally  carries  a  paper  of  its  own, 

1  Witness  the  threat  of  a  general  strike  in  England  if  war 
were  declared  against  Russia. 


THE  BREAK  OF  THE  CIRCLE         75 

and  this  paper  becomes  in  practically  every  case  an 
instrument  of  aggressive  resistance  against  the 
capitalistic  press  and  the  capitalistic  system.  Just 
as  the  capitalist  press  defends  the  whole  of  capital- 
ism, so  the  labor  press  tends  to  develop  a  united 
front  against  it  and  defend  the  cause  of  labor  in  its 
totality.  This  is  true  also  of  education,  of  the 
public  platform,  of  the  magazine,  of  pamphlet 
literature,  and  of  the  public  forum.  Every  agency 
of  the  capitalistic  system  is  tending  to  be  paralleled 
and  used  for  defense  of  the  labor  movement. 

When  viewed  as  a  movement  for  the  ultimate 
control  of  the  destinies  of  labor  on  a  democratic 
basis,  the  methods  of  the  labor  movement  which  are 
direct  and  unconscious  are  of  equal  and  even  greater 
importance  than  those  which  I  have  called  direct 
and  aggressive.  Capitalism,  with  its  large  auto- 
cratic organization  of  industry,  depends  for  its 
smooth  workings  and  uninterrupted  continuance 
upon  a  pliant,  submissive  and  easily  managed  work- 
ing force.  One  of  the  first  consequences  of  the  labor 
movement  is  to  upset  this  basis  of  the  capitalistic 
system.  It  develops  critical,  aggressive,  evaluating, 
non-submissive  and  bold  characters  out  of  a  very 
meek  and  submerged  working  force.  It  compels 
the  raising  of  the  question  of  a  validity,  propriety, 
honesty,  and  the  proper  ordering  of  the  present 
scheme  of  things  on  the  part  of  those  who  have 
never  seriously  questioned  the  present  arrangement 
of  the  world.  This  is  one  of  the  first  consequences 
of  organization. 

The  labor  movement  and  the  workers  in  general, 


76  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

because  of  their  experience  with  the  character  of 
the  capitalist  press,  lose  confidence  in  it  and  cease 
to  believe  it.  This  is  a  very  striking  fact  in  the 
current  world.  The  capitalistic  press  has  overdone 
its  service  to  the  present  system  and  it  has,  to  a 
much  larger  degree  than  is  generally  believed  by 
people  who  are  not  acquainted  with  the  working 
class  movements,  lost  its  hold  upon  the  workers. 
It  is  common  to  describe  the  newspapers  as  the 
"reptile  press,"  and  to  paraphrase  titles — to  speak 
for  instance  of  "The  New  York  Crimes"  and  the 
"Evening  Tell  A  Lie."  This  simply  means  that 
these  papers  add  bitterness  and  scorn  to  the  work- 
ers' appraisal  of  the  present  system,  a  fact  that  does 
not  contribute  either  to  the  service  these  papers 
are  performing  for  the  present  system  or  to  the 
wisdom  of  their  procedure.  It  is  notorious  that  the 
workers  have  a  tendency  to  disbelieve  all  things  said 
against  them  or  their  class  by  the  large  capitalist- 
owned  papers.  We  have  thus  the  defence,  instinct- 
ive and  unavoidable,  against  all  the  propaganda  of 
the  defenders  of  the  present  system. 

It  seems  indeed  remarkable  that  a  class  better 
equipped  by  education,  by  powers  of  advertising, 
of  propaganda,  of  insinuation,  than  any  other  class 
in  the  history  of  the  world  should  be  losing  all  moral 
standing  before  so  large  and  ever-growing  a  part 
of  the  working  class  community.  The  present 
system  has  at  its  disposal  the  newspapers,  the  maga- 
zines, the  advertisers,  the  moving  pictures,  the  public 
platforms,  the  public  schools,  the  church  and  the 
forum,  and  yet  it  fails  to  convince  the  less  educated 


THE  BREAK  OF  THE  CIRCLE         77 

and  generally  gullible  part  of  the  community,  either 
of  its  good  intentions  or  of  its  truth  or  the  cor- 
rectness of  its  facts.  It  cannot  do  so,  because  through 
experience  the  workers  have  found  that  all  of  these 
agencies  are  used  on  occasion  with  all  resource  and 
without  restraint  to  defeat,  discredit  and  ridicule 
those  who  represent  and  speak  for  them;  and  the 
more  intelligent  a  worker  the  less  credulous  he  is 
of  the  material,  opinions  and  motives  avowed  and 
used  by  these  agencies.  This  fact  is  so  evident  and 
well  known  that  a  speaker  can  always  rouse  enthu- 
siasm and  laughter  by  referring  to  the  press  of  the 
country  and  its  supposed  honesty. 

This  feeling  of  distrust  has  gone  to  the  extent 
of  disbelieving  the  words  of  not  only  the  press  but 
of  the  politicians,  the  statesmen,  the  "public  spirited 
citizens"  and  spokesmen  for  the  status  quo.  To 
this  must  be  added  the  use  of  the  power  of  organ- 
ized labor  for  purposes  other  than  those  for  which 
it  originally  organized.  The  workers  organized  for 
the  securing  of  better  wages  and  greater  security. 
They  find  themselves  compelled,  however,  to  use 
this  power  for  other  than  what  to  the  outsider 
appear  purely  personal  gains.  During  the  British 
railway  strike  the  workers  on  the  newspapers 
showed  a  spirit  of  extreme  restlessness,  in  one  case 
going  to  the  extent  of  refusing  to  set  up  an  editorial 
which  was  against  the  strikers.  They  felt  themselves 
called  upon  to  do  so  because  of  the  conviction  that 
the  interests  of  the  capitalist  system  were  being  de- 
fended with  their  cooperation  in  an  issue  which  the 
workers  insisted  was  purely  a  wage  issue,  but 


78  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

which  the  whole  ruling  group  in  the  community 
apparently  felt  called  upon  to  decry  as  an  issue 
growing  out  of  a  movement  against  the  government. 
This  feeling  of  being  participants  in  an  unfair  attack 
upon  their  class,  the  sense  of  being  made  the  in- 
struments of  abuse,  participants  in  the  defeat  of  their 
class  by  a  united  capitalism  explains  this  fact  as 
well  as  others  like  it.  The  behavior  of  the  Canadi- 
an newspaper  workers  on  some  of  the  Dominion 
papers  is  of  the  same  category.  This,  too,  explains 
the  sympathetic  strike.  The  workers  feel  instinct- 
ively that  the  capitalists  are  fighting  a  united  battle 
and  that  they  are  called  upon  to  refuse  to  be  a  party 
to  the  method  of  using  all  of  the  community's  in- 
struments to  defeat  any  one  section  of  workers. 
The  labor  movement  thus  parallels  the  closed  capi- 
talist system  and  tends  to  do  so  ever  more  con- 
sciously and  on  an  ever  larger  scale. 

The  refusal  of  the  British  workers  to  load 
ammunition  for  the  Polish-Russian  War,  the  refusal 
of  the  Irish  workers  to  carry  ammunition  for  the 
British  Government  in  Ireland,  the  decision  of  the 
International  Trade  Union  Movement  to  boycott 
Hungary,  are  all  illustrations  of  the  growing  soli- 
darity of  the  working  class  movement  on  interna- 
tional lines.  This  international  solidarity  which  is 
thus  developing  is  but  a  closing  of  the  links  in  the 
working  class  chain  of  power  and  control  which, 
used  with  ever  more  effect  against  the  power  of 
the  capitalist  organization,  tends  to  destroy  the 
closed  circle  of  the  capitalist  system. 
This  tendency  is  of  great  significance,  when  viewed 


THE  BREAK  OF  THE  CIRCLE         79 

in  its  totality.  We  see  the  growth  of  a  paralleling 
method  of  control,  of  aggression,  and  of  defense 
along  every  highway  and  byway.  The  ramifications 
of  the  labor  movement  are  as  wide  as  the  world  of 
capitalism  and  are  tending  to  become  equally  sig- 
nificant and  patent  in  the  minds  of  the  workers. 
Never  before  in  the  history  of  the  world  has  an 
opposing  system  of  ideals,  of  methods,  of  powers, 
of  ends,  tended  to  secure  so  powerful  a  strangle 
hold  upon  the  social  organization  which  it  con- 
fronted and  with  which  it  battled.  Every  avenue  of 
control  is  dominated,  every  power  is  duplicated  with 
greater  or  less  completeness,  but  always  tending  to 
be  more  complete,  more  positive,  more  secure.  The 
world  may  be  in  a  closed  system  of  capitalist  control 
generating  power  and  influence  for  its  own  preser- 
vation, but  within  this  system  is  developing  another 
force  of  equal  extension,  only  of  greater  numbers, 
of  equal  width,  of  greater  depth. 

The  imperialism  and  militarism  of  capitalism  is 
opposed  by  the  pacifism  and  anti-militarism  which 
is  general  among  workers.  The  trust  is  met  by  the 
industrial  union,  the  competitive  by  the  cooperative 
principle,  the  propaganda  of  the  class  in  power  by 
the  derision  and  refusal  to  believe  on  the  part  of 
those  whom  they  would  persuade,  the  internation- 
alism of  the  capitalist  system  by  the  unity  of  the 
workers'  movement,  and  the  capitalist  press  by  the 
workers'  press,  capitalist  education  by  working  class 
education. 

The  workers  are  building  a  net  of  powers,  of 
control,  of  influence,  of  sympathies,  of  ideals,  of 


80  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

methods,  and  of  ends,  which  are  incompatible  and 
contrary  to  the  present  system.  The  closed  circle 
is  met  by  an  ever-expanding  working  class  circle 
set  within  it,  extending  from  its  organization  in  the 
shop,  in  the  community,  the  industry,  to  the  nation, 
and  internationally  to  cover  the  growth  of  capital- 
ism. This  power  constantly  increases  and  expands 
and  strains  the  powers  and  functions  of  the  capi- 
talist system. 

Where  this  will  end  seems  evident.  It  seems 
evident  because  it  is  probably  inevitable  that  the 
growth  of  the  labor  movement  is  not  compatible 
with  the  competitive  and  profit  motive  in  indus- 
try. It  seems  destined  to  achieve  security,  and 
through  security  the  freedom  of  self-determination 
in  which  are  bound  up  all  of  the  moral  and  ethical 
implications  of  the  labor  movement. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE    METHOD   OF   THE   LABOR    MOVEMENT 

HP  HE  labor  movement  bridges  the  age-long  gap 
•••  between  the  hand  and  the  brain.  This  elimina- 
tion of  the  division  between  the  brain  that  conceives, 
that  plans,  that  organizes,  and  the  hand  which  exe- 
cutes, which  puts  into  actual  shape  and  concrete 
form,  is  the  basic  method  of  the  labor  movement. 
Labor  throughout  the  ages  has  been  considered 
menial.  To  be  a  hand-worker  has  generally  meant 
that  one  belonged  to  a  lower  class.  This  implication 
was  given  philosophical  expression  and  justification 
by  the  Greek  definition  of  the  slave.  A  slave  was 
a  man  without  a  soul — and  a  slave  amongst  the 
Greeks  was  a  worker.  A  free  citizen  generally  did 
not  work.  l  Work  was  on  the  whole  considered  a 
disgrace,  a  proof  of  a  man's  lack,  not  only  of  social 
position  and  free  citizenship,  but  of  spiritual 
essence. 

In  spite  of  certain  aspects  of  Christianity  that 
general  view  has  been  carried  up  to  date.  There  has 
persisted  a  suggestion  of  lowness,  of  servility,  of 
lack  of  intelligence  and  character  in  the  fact  that 

1  Alfred  Zimmern  in  his  "Greek  Commonwealth,"  p.  251, 
has  developed  a  different  picture  and  indicates  that  Aristotle's 
generalization  was  probably  too  hasty. 
6  81 


82  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

one  was  a  worker.  To  be  low-born  meant  to  be 
born  in  a  class  that  worked  for  a  living.  This  as- 
sumption, that  in  some  way  the  commonness  of 
labor  makes  the  man  common,  has  still  a  strong 
hold  upon  many  of  our  good  people  who  on  proper 
occasion  talk  of  the  dignity  of  labor,  a  dignity  which 
they  themselves  are,  generally,  in  no  evident  hurry 
to  share  by  becoming  laborers. 

Any  fact  of  long  standing,  any  institution  of 
persistent  continuity,  any  social  phenomenon  which 
lasts  over  a  great  length  of  time,  no  matter  how 
incongruous  it  may  seem  at  the  beginning  or  how 
strange  and  out  of  place  when  it  first  appears  on  the 
horizon,  will  in  time  be  rationalized,  explained,  and 
ultimately  justified.  This  has  happened  with  all 
important  historical  changes.  It  was  true  of  Christi- 
anity, of  Democracy,  of  universal  military  service 
and  of  such  things  as  public  school  education. 

In  no  case,  however,  is  this  tendency  towards 
rationalization  and  justification  of  the  persistent  so 
well  exhibited  as  in  the  case  of  servitude;  of  human 
slavery  and  subordination  of  the  worker.  The 
civilization  of  the  Greeks  rested  upon  slavery.  It 
rested  upon  the  deliberate  and  direct  subjection  of 
man  to  the  service  of  man.  The  thinking  Greek 
gave  this  fact  the  simple  explanation  that  a  slave 
was  simply  a  living  tool.  He  was  a  being  lacking 
the  force  which  would  make  him  human — a  soul. 
This  explanation  was  not  unknown  to  some  of  our 
Southern  apologists  in  the  days  of  slavery. 

With  the  coming  of  Christianity,  the  break-down 
of  the  Roman  Empire,  the  invasion  of  the  Germanic 


METHOD  OF  LABOR  MOVEMENT  83 

tribes,  slavery  was  very  slowly  transmuted  into 
serfdom.  The  earlier  explanation  that  a  slave  had 
no  soul  now  became  untenable.  All  Christians  had 
souls  to  be  either  damned  or  saved.  The  very 
existence  of  the  Christian  Empire  depended  upon 
an  inclusion  of  all  men  within  the  formula  of  a 
human  being  with  a  soul — a  divine  spark  that  gave 
the  lowest  some  relation  to  the  eternal.  The  sub- 
jection of  a  large  part  of  the  community  to  labor 
for  the  benefit  of  a  small  group  of  nobles,  bishops 
and  princes  was  however  still  the  groundwork  of 
social  organization. 

An  explanation — a  new  one — of  this  fact  was 
needed,  one  that  would  not  deprive  the  lowly  and 
the  poor  of  their  communion  with  the  Divine.  This 
was  found  in  the  doctrine  that  God  had  appointed 
all  men  to  their  particular  station  in  life — a  doctrine 
of  social  harmony.  Like  the  notes  on  a  piano, 
each  occupying  the  place  which  best  fits  a  harmonic 
scale,  so  each  individual  fitted  properly  into  the  scale 
of  social  organization  then  conceived.  The  worker 
and  the  idler,  the  peasant  and  the  lord,  the  noble  and 
the  king,  had  all  been  given  their  work,  their  place 
and  their  reason  for  existence.  Obedience  to  God 
involved  the  acceptance  of  this  harmonic  division 
between  the  function  and  income  of  the  separate 
individuals,  not  only  as  a  good  but  also  as  a  merciful 
fact  (a  fact  which  no  man  could  doubt  without 
doubting  the  wisdom  of  the  Lord  and  the  justice 
of  His  mercy). 

The  rise  of  cities,  the  commercial  revolution,  the 
coming  of  the  machine,  gradually  destroyed  serf- 


84  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

dom,  drove  the  worker  from  the  land  and  forced 
him  into  overcrowded  cities.  The  period  which 
saw  these  economic  and  social  changes  also  wit- 
nessed the  gradual  disappearance  amongst  many 
men  of  the  belief  in  the  perfect  wisdom  of  the  social 
and  political  arrangements  of  the  Almighty.  This 
change  was  characterized  and  stimulated  by  the 
Protestant  Reformation,  the  rise  of  the  Anabaptists, 
the  growth  of  science  and  of  the  material  philoso- 
phies and  with  them  the  development  of  the  Deists 
and  Skeptics.  The  old  explanation  was  no  explana- 
tion to  those  who  rejected  traditional  Christianity, 
and  their  number  was  ever  growing. 

Servitude,  however,  remained  a  constant  social 
phenomenon.  The  man  who  had  been  a  slave,  who 
had  gradually  become  a  serf,  was  now  called  a 
freeman,  but  his  freedom  was  chiefly  a  freedom  to 
go  hungry  if  he  had  no  work  or  was  not  willing  to 
accept  work  under  the  conditions  provided  by  an 
employer.  Serfdom  had  been  transmuted  into  what 
is  called  wage  slavery,  which  is  more  unmerciful, 
when  it  is  unmitigated  by  labor  organizations,  than 
any  slavery  hitherto  known.  This  persistence  of 
servitude  had  to  be  explained,  especially  since  the 
age  which  saw  these  changes  was  reputed  to  be  one 
of  freedom  and  equality.  A  rationalization  was 
soon  found.  I  do  not  say  it  was  manufactured. 
I  say  it  was  found.  Poverty,  inequality,  disease, 
and  drunkenness,  crowded  homes  and  overworked 
children  had  to  be  explained.  Any  fact  that  is  per- 
sistently with  us  has  to  have  an  explanation  even 
if  it  be  false.  It  was  found  in  a  very  simple  state- 


METHOD  OF  LABOR  MOVEMENT  85 

ment  of  what  seemed  to  be  true.  The  poor  were 
the  weak.  They  were  the  unfit.  They  were  the 
defeated  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  Life  was  a 
struggle  for  the  survival  of  the  fittest  and  they  who 
did  not  survive  as  capitalists  continued  as  workers, 
died  as  beggars,  were  jailed,  transported  or  hanged 
as  criminals.  This  was  the  explanation  that  made 
all  things  simple  and  all  Christian  consciences  easy. 
The  rationalized  justifications  which  have  hitherto 
been  given  are  still  in  common  use  in  one  form  or 
another  to  justify  the  present  subordination  of  the 
workers.  The  conservative  and  reactionary  philo- 
sophy is  a  mixture  of  all  these  attitudes  expressed 
in  different  form  and  in  different  ways  as  the  oc- 
casion may  demand.  But  they  are  stated  and  used 
to  justify  the  present  state  of  things,  and  the  present 
state  of  things  is  what  has  been  described  as  indus- 
trial autocracy. 

Before  an  attempt  is  made  to  discuss  the  method 
of  the  labor  movement  in  actual  operation  it  is 
necessary  that  it  be  clearly  understood  what  the 
worker  means  by  industrial  autocracy.  Industrial 
autocracy  is  not  only  ownership  by  a  small  part  of 
the  community  of  the  resources  and  tools  upon 
which  the  whole  community  lives  and  with  which  it 
works,  but  it  is  also  management  and  control  by 
the  same  small  part  or  their  immediate  represent- 
atives without  the  cooperation  of  the  rest  of  the 
community. 

Under  present  economic  conditions  all  production 
is  very  involved  and  depends  upon  the  cooperation 
of  many  people.  All  economic  activity  is  a  function 


86  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

performed  by  a  group,  but  it  is  not  a  conscious 
group  function.  Many  people  associate  to  make 
industry  go,  but  their  association  is  physical  rather 
than  spiritual.  They  are  assembled  together  like 
bricks  in  a  house,  each  depending  upon  the  other, 
but  having  little  conscious  unity,  or,  better  still, 
like  horses  in  a  team  that  work  in  unison  without 
understanding  the  object  or  purpose  of  their  activity. 
A  worker  is  taken  off  the  street  and  put  on  a  job. 
He  is  told  to  do  a  certain  piece  of  work.  At  the 
end  of  the  week  he  is  paid  for  having  done  it.  His 
payment  is  generally  the  only  force,  the  only  inter- 
est, that  keeps  him  at  his  task.  There  is,  generally, 
no  interest,  no  spiritual  participation,  no  creative 
effort,  no  joy  involved  in  it.  The  little  that  does 
come  is  that  which  results  from  any  kind  of  physical 
activity  and  which  dies  off  soon  enough,  as  the 
monotony  and  repetition  keep  wearing  on  his  nerves 
and  his  labor  begins  to  tire  his  muscles.  His  im- 
agination, his  creative  powers,  are  things  for  which 
he  is  not  paid  and  which  generally  are  not  expected 
of  him.  He  is  left  to  enjoy  such  amusement  and 
personal  activity  as  his  time,  energy  and  means 
leave  room  for  outside  his  work.  The  planning, 
the  organizing,  the  giving  of  unity  and  coherence 
to  the  functions  of  all  the  workers,  all  these  things 
are  in  the  hands  of  the  managing  group.  Between 
them  and  the  workers  there  is  no  relation  other 
than  that  between  a  driver  and  his  team  or  that 
between  a  checker  player  and  his  checkers. 

The  player  moves  the  checkers  about  and  places 
them  to  the  best  advantage  without  consideration 


METHOD  OF  LABOR  MOVEMENT  87 

of  what  they  are.  He  is  playing  the  game  and  they 
are  the  tools,  the  instruments  with  which  he  plays, 
and  between  him  and  them  there  is  no  other  relation. 
This  is  what  is  meant  when  labor  is  described  as  a 
commodity.  To  the  managing  group  it  is  a  thing 
to  be  moved  and  used  and  discarded  when  not 
wanted.  This  is  what  managers  mean  when  they 
say  that  they  will  not  stand  interference  in  their 
own  industry.  It  is  their  game  and  not  the  game 
of  the  workers,  of  the  group  upon  which  they  de- 
pend. This  is  the  character  of  modern  industry  and 
this  is  what  the  worker  means  by  industrial  autocracy. 
The  method  of  the  labor  movement  is  to  make 
this  process  of  industrial  activity  impossible.  The 
method  of  the  labor  movement  is  to  make  the  func- 
tion of  an  industrial  group  a  conscious  group  func- 
tion. The  problems  of  sanitation,  of  hiring  and 
firing,  of  the  hours  of  labor,  of  the  speed  with  which 
the  workers  work,  of  apprenticeship,  often  of  the 
machine  used,  become  subjects  of  controversy,  dis- 
cussion, agitation  and  control.  The  workers  thus 
develop  interest  in  their  function,1  in  their  industry. 
The  physical  cooperation  is  strengthened  by  a 
spiritual  one,  by  a  conscious  interest  in  the  same 
problem  and  a  constant  desire  for  the  assertion  of 

*As  an  illustration  it  may  be  of  interest  to  note  some  of 
the  demands  of  the  Teachers  Union  printed  in  the  January, 
1919,  number  of  the  "American  Teacher." 

2.  Teachers  members  of  all  boards  of  education. 

3.  Council  of  teachers  in  each  city  or  town. 

4.  Teachers  council  in  each  school. 

5.  Permanent  tenure  during  efficiency. 


88  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

the  group  opinion.  It  is  this  fact  that  makes 
organized  labor  so  powerfully  creative  and  con- 
structive in  character. 

Those    who    point    to    the    strike,    the    boycott, 
sabotage,  ca'-canny,  as  evidence  of  the  destructive 
character  of  organized  labor  take  the  defensive  and 
temporary  aspects  of  the  activity  of  labor,  as  its 
basic  and  fundamental  traits.     In  its  struggle  for 
existence,  for  power,  for  control,  the  strike  has  been 
and   still   is   of    fundamental   importance.      It  has 
creative  influences  upon  the  growth  of  character  and 
initiative  among  the  workers,  but  as  a  contribution 
to  permanent  social  method  the  strike  is  of  a  tempo- 
rary and  secondary  nature.     The  labor  movement 
is  using  the  strike  to  substitute  group  control  for 
individual  control.    It  is  using  the  strike  to  destroy 
industrial  autocracy.     With  the  disappearance  of 
industrial  autocracy  will  probably  come  the  elimina- 
tion of  the  strike  as  a  weapon.     The  strike  is  a 
method  of  war  and  has  no  value  in  peace.     What 
the  labor  movement  is  doing  is  contributing  to  the 
function  of  the  group  in  industry  as  a  group  and 
to  an  understanding  of  its  basic  unity  and  inter- 
dependence.    An  industrial  union  is  the  synthesis, 
the  unity  of  the  working  force  in  an  industry.    The 
skilled  and  the  unskilled,  the  trained  and  the  un- 
trained, are  interdependent  in  fact  and  in  thought. 
They  cooperate  in  a  common  product.     The  stage 
hand,  the  musician,  and  the  actor  become  necessary 
to  each  other.     This  is  the  vital  contribution  to 
industrial  procedure  which  the  labor  movement  is 
making. 


METHOD  OF  LABOR  MOVEMENT  89 

A  theater  that  is  established  upon  a  cooperative 
basis  is  a  good  illustration  of  the  method  of  the 
labor  movement.  In  such  a  theater  the  function  of 
the  whole  group,  from  the  actor  to  the  stage  hand, 
the  musician,  the  scene  painter,  the  business  agent, 
the  electrician  and  the  usher,  is  concerned  with  the 
production  of  a  successful  performance.  The  group 
meets  for  purposes  of  planning  and  discussing  the 
part  and  contribution  of  all  the  participants  in  the 
common  activity.  They  compromise  and  subordi- 
nate each  his  particular  work  to  the  common  end. 
Each  man  becomes  in  that  sense  an  artist.  Each 
is  spiritually  concerned  with  the  effect  and  out- 
come of  their  united  efforts.  The  actor  and  the 
electrician  become  conscious  of  their  common  needs 
and  their  common  dependence.  This  is  the 
method  of  the  labor  movement.  It  makes  mutual 
participation,  mutual  cooperation,  mutual  sugges- 
tion and  criticism,  mutual  subordination  to  the 
purposes  in  hand,  the  method  through  which  men 
work. 

The  labor  movement  has  in  part  achieved  this 
in  its  struggles.  Wherever  possible  it  has  achieved 
it  in  work,  and  the  whole  problem  of  industrial 
democracy  is  bound  up  in  it.  It  is  not  the  strike 
or  the  boycott,  not  sabotage  or  ca'-canny  which  is 
the  basic  method  of  the  labor  movement;  it  is  the 
spiritual  and  intellectual  unity  of  purpose  and  func- 
tion which  is  the  vital  contribution  to  human  co- 
operation that  is  being  forged  by  the  labor  move- 
ment. The  labor  movement,  by  making  the  hand 
and  the  brain  not  only  interdependent  but  partici- 


90  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

pants  in  each  other's  efforts,  unites  them  into  one 
organic  and  inseparable  whole. 

NOTE — The  growth  of  interest  in  the  efficiency  of  the  indus- 
try as  a  result  of  organization  is  illustrated  by  the  recent 
charges  of  inefficiency  which  the  railroad  workers  made 
against  the  railway  managers.  These  charges  included 
amongst  them : 

1.  Bad  methods  in  the  purchase  of  coal,  coal  inspection, 

and  poor  methods  of  firing. 

2.  Poor  shop  equipment  which  made  efficient  labor  diffi- 

cult. 

3.  Poor  methods  and  resulting  wastes  in  water  consump- 

tion. 

4.  Poor  methods  of  service  supply. 

5.  Poor  methods  of  shop  accounting. 

6.  Loss  due  to  labor  turnover  which  could  be  remedied 

by  proper  management. 

7.  Needless  loss  and  damage. 

8.  Wastes  due  to  remedial  defects  in  car  equipment. 

9.  Wastes  due  to  defective  power  equipment. 

10.  Wastes  due  to  inefficient  handling  of  tractive  power. 

11.  Wastes  due  to  inadequate  engine  terminals. 

12.  Wastes  due  to  advertising  and  propaganda. 

13.  Wastes  due  to   too  liberal   dividends  and   consequent 

reduction  of  the  reserve  for  renewal  of  equipment. 
These  charges  issuing  from  an  organized  group  of  some 
two  million  workers  represent  what  is  meant  by  the  tendency 
of  organized  labor  to  make  a  group  function  into  a  conscious, 
personal  and  meaningful  participation  in  the  problems  of  in- 
dustry by  the  labor  movement.  This  is  the  proper  method  of 
organized  labor.  It  makes  the  function  socially  significant  in 
a  different  sense  than  that  implied  in  the  mere  fact  that  one 
works  at  something.  It  is  an  indication  of  the  possibilities 
for  efficiency  and  power  which  lie  inherent  in  organization  by 
the  workers  in  industry. 


,  CHAPTER  VII 

EDUCATIONAL  FUNCTION  OF  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

I  ABOR  organizations  serve  other  than  material 
•*— '  ends.  The  material  aspects  are  more  often 
emphasized  because  the  worker  in  his  constant 
struggle  for  physical  security  is  chiefly  conscious 
of  them.  The  gains  in  money  and  better  conditions, 
shop  control  and  economic  stability  are  the  things 
that  count  in  the  immediate  evaluation  of  the  serv- 
ices performed  by  the  labor  movement.  Not  only 
the  worker  but  the  outsider — the  onlooker,  sympa- 
thetic or  critical,  favoring  or  disparaging  the  ac- 
tivities of  organized  labor — generally  sees  the 
struggle  of  the  workers  as  primarily  one  for 
material  goods  and  greater  leisure. 

Sympathetic  observers  regard  the  gains  in  leisure 
as  a  great  achievement.  This  leisure  becomes  to 
them  the  ground  upon  which  the  worker  can  develop 
divers  interests  and  relationships  away  from  his 
work,  interests  that  are  social  and  educational,  and 
activities  which  would  help  to  give  him  the  status 
of  a  man  with  varied  contacts.  In  short,  both  the 
worker  and  the  sympathetic  outsider  generally  sum 
up  the  achievements  of  the  labor  movement  in  terms 

91 


92  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

of  more  money  and  shorter  hours,  while  the  means 
by  which  these  ends  are  gained — the  strike,  the 
passionate  struggle  for  mastery,  the  suffering,  and 
the  pangs  of  bitterness  which  come  with  it — are 
disparaged  even  by  the  workers.  If  only  the  gains 
could  be  had  without  this  suffering,  how  much 
better  it  would  be !  This  disparagement  of  the  strug- 
gles of  the  labor  movement  ranges  from  direct  con- 
demnation by  the  unsympathetic  to  acceptance  as  a 
necessary  evil  by  its  friends.  It  is  the  contention  of 
this  chapter  that  such  an  evaluation  of  the  activities 
of  the  labor  movement  is  not  only  incomplete  but  in 
a  large  measure  erroneous.  Important  as  are  the 
gains  in  money  and  free  time,  they  cannot  be  de- 
scribed as  the  only  or  even  the  most  important  con- 
tribution of  the  labor  movement  to  the  lives  of  the 
workers  or  to  the  morale  of  our  time.  The  activities 
of  the  labor  movement  carry  with  them  another  set 
of  values — values  which  are  not  easily  determinable, 
which  cannot  be  weighed  and  measured  with  speci- 
fied instruments,  and  which  yet  constitute  a  most 
important  consequence  of  organized  labor. 

The  labor  movement  has  a  profound  spiritual  in- 
fluence upon  the  workers  who  join  its  ranks.  It  has 
that  influence,  primarily,  because  it  is  a  struggle 
that  compels  unity,  solidarity,  suffering,  trust,  and 
good  fellowship.  It  forces  the  workers  to  achieve 
self-determination  by  acquiring  a  sense  of  group 
consciousness,  self-reliance,  and  willingness  to  assert 
one's  self  in  the  interests  of  the  group. 

The  labor  movement,  striving  for  better  con- 
ditions of  livelihood,  develops  character  as  a  by- 


EDUCATIONAL  FUNCTION  93 

product,  and  fighting  for  union  recognition  con- 
tributes to  the  growth  of  personality.  It  aims  at 
organizing  for  purposes  of  defense  and  becomes  the 
means  of  an  aggressive  social  mindedness.  The 
workers  join  their  unions  to  make  a  better  bargain 
with  their  employers,  and  in  the  process  of  build- 
ing, protecting,  developing  the  organization,  in  the 
discussions,  debates,  deliberations  and  disputes,  the 
raising  of  new  problems  and  evaluation  of  different 
methods  of  procedure  and  conduct,  they  become 
conscious  of  other  than  purely  personal  problems 
and  of  other  than  selfish  aims. 

The  worker's  spiritual  life  tends  to  receive  its 
synthesis  in  terms  of  his  union  activity  and  affilia- 
tion. To  him  the  union  grouping  becomes  a  ready 
as  well  as  the  natural  means  for  expressing  and 
satisfying  three  characteristic  values,  the  material, 
the  social  and  the  spiritual.  The  labor  union  em- 
bodies his  material  hold  upon  the  world.  It,  too, 
generally  includes  his  friends  and  associates  in  strife 
and  play,  and  its  activities  provide  the  zest  for  a 
constant  re-evaluation  of  his  relation  to  the  com- 
munity. 

The  labor  union  is  a  democratic  organization. 
It  is  usually  composed  of  equals  in  wealth  as  well  as 
in  social  standing.  The  workers  are  also  more  or  less 
vividly  conscious  of  common  problems — problems 
presented  by  their  particular  shop,  industry  or  trade. 
One  of  the  first  consequences  of  labor  organization 
is  to  make  the  individual  more  conscious  of  his 
helplessness  and  of  the  insistent  need  for  cooperative 
effort.  It  makes  dependence  upon  the  group,  and 


94  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

harmony  within  it,  the  basis  of  operation.  The 
equality  of  its  members,  as  well  as  their  individual 
helplessness,  is  more  striking  than  that  of  the  mem- 
bers of  most  any  other  democratic  organization. 

A  labor  union  is  thus  a  highly  homogeneous 
group  in  the  sense  that  its  background  of  fact, 
power  and  goods  is  homogeneous.  The  longshore- 
men are  by  and  large  knit  closely  in  more  than  a 
physical  sense.  They  have  a  fairly  common  setting ; 
their  experiences,  education,  needs,  problems  and 
present  desires  approximate  each  other  much  more 
than  they  do  in  a  political  organization  where  the 
differences  in  wealth  as  well  as  social  status  may 
range  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  This  fact, 
combined  with  the  individual  helplessness,  tends  to 
give  the  members  of  the  labor  union  a  feeling  of 
comradeship,  of  brotherly  good  will,  of  loyalty  and 
trust,  which  is  strikingly  manifested  in  every  labor 
effort. 

The  labor  union  is  the  instrument  which  deter- 
mines one  of  the  most  important  contacts  of  the 
worker  with  the  world  at  large — his  work.  It  is 
this  which  makes  his  helplessness  as  an  individual  so 
keen  and  his  dependence  upon  his  group  so  con- 
stant. 

To  the  worker  his  work  is  all  important.  With- 
out it  existence  would  be  difficult  indeed.  All  that 
he  has,  his  plans,  his  hopes,  his  ideals,  his  dreams, 
his  ambitions,  his  family  connections,  his  prospects 
of  marriage  or  of  educating  his  children,  are 
centered  in  the  fact  that  he  is  working  and  that  the 
labor  union  is  the  instrument  which  gives  all  of 


EDUCATIONAL  FUNCTION  95 

these  elements  such  apparent  security  as  they  seem 
to  have.  It  determines  the  principles,  the  condi- 
tions, the  setting,  the  remuneration,  the  hours,  the 
control,  which  the  individual  worker  has  over  his 
work.  The  organized  worker  has  his  material  well- 
being  set  within  the  range  of  control  and  power  of 
the  union  organization,  and  that  fact  tends  to  make 
the  union's  activities  and  methods  of  procedure  of 
immediate  concern  to  the  individual.  He  stands  to 
lose  or  to  gain  by  every  move  of  the  organization. 
This  gives  the  labor  union  a  hold  upon  the  thought, 
the  interest  and  the  attachment  of  the  worker  which 
has  far-reaching  spiritual  connotations. 

As  a  democratic  organization  the  labor  union 
operates  like  all  democracy.  It  agrees  by  disagree- 
ing. It  works  in  terms  of  majority  rule.  Decisions 
are  made,  policies  worked  out,  and  courses  of  action 
adopted  after  discussion.  A  democratic  organiza- 
tion, if  it  is  to  be  vitally  effective,  must  harmonize 
individual  idiosyncrasies,  and  where  the  interests 
are  so  vital  the  individual  opinion  is  likely  to  be 
strong  as  well  as  personal.  Each  one  has  a  tendency 
to  think  his  way  the  best,  especially  when  so  much 
is  at  stake.  This  helps  to  explain  the  extreme  heat 
and  stubbornness  which  characterizes  so  many  of 
the  discussions  of  labor  organizations. 

The  point  involved  may  seem  trivial,  but  there  is 
usually  a  long  debate,  often  intensely  personal.  This 
situation  may,  and  occasionally  does,  lead  to  ir- 
rational and  useless  disputes,  to  an  aggravation  of 
the  spirit,  to  an  over-evaluation  of  the  importance 
of  little  differences — a  state  of  affairs  which  often 


96  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

makes  harmony  difficult  and  operation  unduly 
strained.  This  fact,  however,  has  its  influence  upon 
the  membership.  It  is  one  of  the  means  of  the 
development  of  individuality  and  personal  opinion. 
It  makes  for  the  growth  of  responsibility.  It  stimu- 
lates thought,  interest  and  self -consciousness.  It 
makes  the  helpless  and  often  hopeless  worker  feel  a 
sense  of  importance,  of  having  contributed  to  the 
discussion,  of  being  someone  who  must  be  "reck- 
oned with."  The  labor  union  gives  him  his  dignity, 
his  right  to  be  considered  in  the  group  with  which  he 
is  associated.  To  many  of  the  workers  who  have 
had  so  little  of  play  and  competition  of  thought  and 
opinion,  of  strife  for  leadership  and  self-assertion, 
this  experience  means  a  rejuvenating  of  self,  an 
awakening  and  resetting  of  outlook  as  well  as  in- 
terests and  motives.  All  of  this  tends  to  make 
the  union  to  which  the  worker  belongs  the  center 
of  his  emotional  outlet  as  well  as  the  center  of  his 
social  connections.  This  process  is  in  part  a  trans- 
mutation of  the  material  into  the  spiritual. 

It  is  in  the  labor  union  that  the  worker  often  finds 
his  best  friends  and  his  bitterest  enemies.  His 
struggles  for  leadership,  for  emulation,  for  self- 
assertion,  find  their  place  and  their  outlet  in  the 
union  meeting.  If  he  is  an  aggressive  type,  per- 
sonally ambitious,  desirous  for  place,  acknowledg- 
ment and  honor,  the  labor  union  is  a  constant  battle- 
ground for  the  attainment  as  well  as  expression  of 
these  ends  and  motives.  If,  on  the  other  hand, 
he  is  more  timid,  a  person  who  operates 
in  terms  of  loyalty  and  personal  friendship,  he 


EDUCATIONAL  FUNCTION  97 

finds  leaders  to  follow  and   friends  to  assist  and 
work  for. 

The  average  local  union  is  small.  The  contact 
amongst  the  members  is  constant  and  personal.  The 
problems  are  so  keen  and  the  differences  of  opinion 
so  numerous  that  the  personality  of  the  workers  is 
stimulated  into  constantly  greater  self-assertion  and 
importance.  The  worker  finds  himself  in  a  social- 
izing vortex  from  which  he  cannot  escape.  It 
makes  a  man  out  of  him,  one  might  say,  almost  in 
spite  of  himself.  It  is  the  basis  of  his  most  vital 
associations.  Friendship,  love  and  family  are  closely 
bound  up  with  the  activities  of  the  union.  The 
union  has  its  balls,  picnics,  parties,  benefits  and 
funerals.  Every  little  union  has  numerous  com- 
mittees— committees  to  visit  sick  members,  to  ar- 
range entertainments,  to  look  over  the  books,  to 
confer  with  other  organizations.  A  large  portion 
of  the  membership  finds  opportunity  for  self-ex- 
pression by  being  active  on  one  of  these. 

The  labor  union  is  also  the  center  of  all  kinds  of 
discussion.  The  conditions  of  the  trade,  the  nature 
of  the  organization,  the  problems  of  leadership,  the 
politics,  both  of  the  union  and  of  the  community, 
creep  into  the  debates.  There  are  also  the  reports 
of  the  delegates  to  the  convention,  to  the  central 
labor  union,  bringing  issues  and  problems  before  the 
workers  which  are  pregnant  with  interest  and 
valuable  for  the  building  of  a  greater  socialized  out- 
look. The  appeal  from  locals  in  different  parts  of 
the  country,  the  news  of  international  labor  condi- 
tions, all  of  these  come  before  the  local  organiza- 


98  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

tion,   are  discussed  and  debated,  voted  upon  and 
decided. 

The  individual  worker  who  first  joined  a  labor 
union  for  purposes  of  making  a  better  bargain  with 
his  employer  now  finds  himself  drawn  into  a  world 
of  association  and  information,  outlook  and  con- 
tact, of  which  he  never  dreamed.  He  finds  that  he 
belongs  to  a  world  of  intimately  connected  and 
associated  people  of  whom  he  is  only  one  but  one 
whose  activities  and  operations  are  of  immediate 
concern.  The  man  grows  with  his  responsibilities, 
with  his  knowledge  and  with  his  associations. 

This  social  relation,  this  newer  and  wider  con- 
tact, has  very  important  consequences  for  the 
individual.  It  takes  the  isolated  man  of  limited 
experience,  of  narrow  views,  of  little  power  and 
well-nigh  helpless  subordination  to  a  world  outside 
and  beyond  his  control,  and  gives  him  the  means  of 
escape.  It  provides  him  with  struggles  that  test  his 
fibre  and  stiffen  his  will.  It  takes  him  out  of 
himself  and  makes  vivid  a  world  beyond  the  selfish 
"I"  and  makes  personal  interests  that  are  remote 
and  unmeaning  to  the  detached  individual.  The 
intensity  of  the  atmosphere  during  a  strike,  a  strike 
conducted  on  a  democratic  basis,  is  a  group  war  in 
which  every  one  is  both  a  soldier  and  a  general. 
There  are  discussions  and  debates,  disputes  and 
differences  of  opinion  during  the  struggle  as  well 
as  after. 

It  is  a  spiritual  experience  that  cannot  be  over- 
valued. It  revivifies  the  life  of  the  worker — a 
change  that  may  be  real  in  more  than  a  figurative 


EDUCATIONAL  FUNCTION  99 

sense.  It  gives,  or  tends  to  give,  the  isolated  in- 
dividual a  sense  of  group  purpose  and  a  social 
imagination,  a  glimpse  of  a  bigger  and  more  com- 
plicated as  well  as  a  more  related  world  than  his 
former  experiences  have  provided.  The  labor  union 
does  all  of  these  things  by  the  very  nature  of  its 
being  a  group  organization  concerned  with  a  com- 
mon and  essential  need  for  mastery  and  control  over 
a  strange  and  indifferent  world,  a  world  which  to 
the  individual  worker  is  without  mercy.  The  labor 
union  thus  serves  the  worker  in  a  material  and 
social  as  well  as  a  spiritual  sense.  It  builds  char- 
acter, initiative  and  dignity.  It  gives  the  worker  a 
feeling  of  importance,  a  sense  of  power,  a  socialized 
imagination,  and  the  training  in  cooperation  upon 
which  the  very  existence  of  his  group  depends. 

This  service  to  the  individual  and  to  the  com- 
munity which  is  contributed  by  the  labor  movement 
as  a  by-product  of  its  normal  activities  is  beyond 
measure  one  of  its  greatest  contributions  to  the 
morale  of  our  time.  The  importance  of  this  con- 
tribution varies  with  the  groups  of  workers  that 
come  under  its  influence,  and  the  variation  tends  to 
be  proportionate  to  the  helplessness  of  the  individu- 
als of  whom  the  group  is  originally  formed.  Labor 
organizations  are  from  this  point  of  view  socially 
and  spiritually  significant  in  the  extent  to  which 
they  take  in  and  organize  the  most  helpless  and 
unfortunate  worker.  The  organization  of  the 
skilled,  well-placed,  and  fairly  independent  worker, 
where  he  exists,  is  important,  but  it  is  in  organizing 
the  unskilled,  the  foreign,  the  migratory,  the  work- 


100  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

ers  who  drift  and  are  always  insecure,  that  the  labor 
movement  performs  its  most  signal  social  function. 
This  in  a  measure  tends  to  give  the  I.  W.  W.  an 
importance  which  is  generally  overlooked.  It  makes 
independent,  self-reliant,  thoughtful  and  socially- 
minded  men  out  of  migratory,  unskilled  and  isolated 
workers.  I  take  the  I.  W.  W.  as  an  example  be- 
cause it  has  been  most  prominent  as  an  exponent 
of  the  interests  of  the  unskilled  and  unorganized. 

Every  union  of  workers,  however,  performs  a 
similar  service  and  the  difference  is  one  of  degree 
and  not  of  kind.  It  might  also  be  remarked  that 
this  fact  probably  tends  to  explain  the  loyalty  which 
the  workers  who  have  been  organized  by  the  I.  W. 
W.  have  shown  to  the  organization  in  the  face  of 
almost  unbearable  persecution.  Their  need  for  as- 
sociation is  so  intense,  their  individual  helplessness 
is  so  great,  that  no  amount  of  pressure,  apparently, 
can  break  the  love,  the  idealism  and  the  loyalty 
which  has  grown  up  around  this  instrument  of  self- 
defense  and  this  means  towards  personal  dignity. 

Other  groups  that  have  a  pertinent  basis  for 
association  perform  this  work  in  a  measure.  Few, 
if  any,  however,  ever  achieved  so  deep  an  influence 
as  has  the  labor  movement.  Organizations  like  the 
church  and  the  school  approach  it,  but  in  neither 
is  there  at  piesent  that  particular  setting  which  has 
given  the  labor  union  so  important  a  hold  on  the 
spiritual  growth  of  the  individual,  if  by  spiritual 
growth  is  meant  the  development  of  dignity,  sense 
of  importance,  personality,  initiative  and  power  of 
cooperation.  The  labor  union  is  a  constant  relation 


EDUCATIONAL  FUNCTION          101 

that  centers  about  the  most  important  thing  the 
worker  does — his  work.  It  is  generally  responsive 
to  the  needs,  the  ideals  and  the  interest  of  the  group. 
And  lastly,  but  most  important  of  all,  it  is  organized 
democratically  where  individual  and  deliberate 
cooperation  are  the  basis  of  success  and  growth. 

Another  important  distinction  is  that  the  other 
organized  groups  have  aimed  at  the  development 
of  a  particular  type,  an  ideal  individual,  and  the 
means  have  always  been  subordinated  to  the  end. 
The  means  were  in  theory  supposed  to  furnish  guid- 
ance, but  in  practice  they  generally  proved  to  be 
suppression.  They  aimed  at  perfection  and  achieved 
distortion.  But  to  the  labor  movement  the  growth 
of  the  individual  is  not  a  conscious  aim.  It  has  not 
concerned  itself  with  the  development  of  perfection 
amongst  its  members.  This  being  the  case,  the  in- 
fluence of  the  group  and  of  its  activities  flow  un- 
hampered and  without  conscious  control.  It  permits 
its  members  to  become  what  the  group  struggles 
make  of  them.  The  activities  of  the  labor  move- 
ment, however,  are  social  in  character.  They  are 
fundamentally  unselfish,  always  involving  other 
than  purely  personal  gains,  always  arousing  the 
question  of  group  interest  and  group  responsibility, 
with  the  group  ever  growing  larger  and  more  re- 
presentative of  the  community.  This  tends  to  result 
in  a  highly  sensitive  social  consciousness  amongst 
the  individuals — a  sensitiveness  for  social  justice 
and  decency  that  is  hardly  to  be  found  in  so  deep  a 
character  in  any  other  part  of  the  community. 

Another  aspect  of  labor's  activities  in  this  con- 


102  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

nection  is  the  fact  that  it  deals  with  the  one  group 
which  has  always  been  neglected  and  generally  con- 
sidered negligible.  It  develops  personality  in  the 
proverbial  "beasts  of  burden"  who  were  denied  the 
possession  of  it.  It  is  to  those  who  were  always 
looked  upon  as  the  "stupid  masses,"  the  "great 
unwashed,"  that  the  labor  movement  is  giving  the 
benefit  of  democratic  organization  and  of  group 
influence.  Those  who  were  supposed  to  have  no 
soul  are  finding  one  in  mutual  service,  struggle  and 
cooperation.  They  to  whom  all  right  of  expression 
was  denied,  who  were  neglected  and  abused  and 
considered  the  dregs  of  society,  the  defeated  in 
the  struggle  for  existence,  are  through  the  influence 
of  organization  given  all  of  the  respect  and  power 
hitherto  denied  them. 

The  point,  however,  that  I  am  trying  to  emphasize 
is  that  it  is  in  the  influence  upon  the  individual 
members  that  the  labor  movement  achieves  these 
new  values  and  achieves  a  moral  right  to  them  in 
just  the  degree  in  which  the  individual  worker 
grows  in  character  and  responsibility.  For  the 
greatest  thing  in  the  world  is,  after  all,  human  per- 
sonality, human  dignity,  and  the  labor  movement 
gives  it  to  those  who  have  for  ages  been  the  "hewers 
of  wood  and  drawers  of  water." 

In  the  light  of  the  current  discussions  of  indus- 
trial democracy,  responsible  cooperation,  socialized 
and  common  human  interests,  this  contribution  to 
individuality  becomes  the  very  basis  of  our  future 
growth.  In  a  community  where  leadership,  initia- 
tive, cooperation  and  social  interest  are  limited  to 


EDUCATIONAL  FUNCTION          103 

a  few,  there  can  be  no  hope  of  true  industrial 
democracy  or  spiritual  community.  These  values 
can,  however,  only  be  had  through  a  gradual  ac- 
quisition. They  are  acquired  on  the  basis  of  ex- 
perience, of  contact,  of  struggle,  of  cooperation 
stretching  over  many  years.  The  union  is  laying  the 
personal  and  the  spiritual  background  for  social  de- 
mocracy. It  is  doing  all  of  this  because  it  is  an 
organization  which  is  not  only  large  but  democratic 
and  vital  to  those  who  are  members  of  it.  An  army 
is  organized  activity  on  a  large  scale,  but  it  is  the 
very  antithesis  of  labor  association.  It  is  the  de- 
mocratic character  of  the  organization,  it  is  the  fact 
that  men  meet  there  as  economic  equals  and  strive 
for  a  greater  degree  of  unity  on  a  voluntary  basis, 
that  gives  the  labor  movement  its  spiritual  sig- 
nificance. 

The  organized  labor  movement  is  thus  the  peo- 
ple's university.  More  than  our  colleges  and 
academies,  more  than  our  churches  and  public 
schools,  does  the  labor  movement  tend  to  contribute 
to  the  growth  of  interest  and  social-mindedness  as 
well  as  responsibility. 

The  university  and  the  college  reach  compara- 
tively few  people  and  only  for  a  short  period  of 
time.  The  church  has  its  hold  on  many  workers, 
but  this  hold  lacks  the  vitality  of  the  labor  move- 
ment. The  labor  movement  touches  the  worker's 
everyday  interests  and  influences  his  daily  existence 
more  directly  and  more  immediately  than  the 
church.  The  public  school  is  important.  Here, 
however,  the  influence  is  exerted  over  a  narrow  spa\ 


104  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

of  the  worker's  life  and  is  often  incomplete,  as  a 
large  portion  of  workers  go  to  work  before  they 
finish  their  elementary  schooling.  The  labor  union 
is  constant  and  lifelong.  The  man's  work  is  his 
hold  upon  life,  and  his  labor  union  gives  that  work 
such  permanence,  interest  and  sense  of  personal  re- 
sponsibility as  it  has  achieved. 

In  the  schools  men  learn  to  know.  In  the  union 
organization  men  acquire  the  technique  of  living 
for  each  other  and  with  each  other.  It  is  here  that 
men  grow  out  of  themselves  and  assume  social  re- 
sponsibility. It  is  here  that  the  workers  learn  to 
adjust  their  daily  lives  to  the  principle  "that  an 
injury  to  one  is  an  injury  to  all,"  and  it  is  upon 
this  highly  social  basis  that  the  future  must  be  built 
and  is  being  built  by  the  labor  movement. 

This  reconstructing  of  the  world  goes  on  daily  in 
terms  of  actual  adjustment,  of  practical  problems 
and  pressing  needs.  This  is  not  a  theoretical 
harmonizing  of  the  worldly  differences  of  men  but 
a  practical,  constant  and  every-day  settlement.  This 
adjustment  is  in  terms  of  the  personal  cooperation 
of  the  men  and  women  in  the  labor  movement,  and 
the  labor  movement  gives  them  what  is  best  in  per- 
sonality— dignity,  self-reliance,  courage  and  social 
interest. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

COMRADESHIP 

THE  labor  movement  is  building  a  new  world. 
It  is  creating  in  its  own  stumbling  way  a  new 
set  of  values,  a  different  type  of  control  from 
that  with  which  we  are  acquainted,  and  is  defining 
anew  the  problem  of  human  responsibility  and 
restating  in  factual  application  a  new  basis  of 
human  cooperation. 

This  new  set  of  formulae,  of  conditions,  of  ideals 
and  valuations  which  the  labor  movement  is  creating 
may,  in  a  general  way,  be  summed  up  in  the  word 
"comradeship."  Here  the  word  "comrade"  has  the 
meaning  of  associate  in  labor,  in  common  human 
effort.  It  carries  the  implication  of  mutual  par- 
ticipation in  the  wide  varied  range  of  activities 
essential  to  the  maintenance  and  improvement  of 
the  conditions  of  human  existence. 

In  the  labor  movement  all  men  are  equal  in  one 
respect — they  all  work,  and  this  common  property 
is  given  pregnant  and  consequential  significance  in 
that  it  is  made  the  basis  of  participation  in  the  ac- 
tivities of  organized  labor.  To  organized  labor  the 
great  distinction  is  between  those  who  earn  and 

105 


106  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

those  who  own.  The  importance  of  this  basis  of 
distinction  between  man  and  man  can  hardly  be 
over-estimated.  It  conditions  all  the  contributions 
of  labor  to  a  change  in  our  political  and  social  ideals. 
It  is  this  fact  that  makes  the  organization  of  the 
working  class  the  carrier  of  a  new  civilization — a 
civilization  wherein  citizenship  is  determined  by 
work,  by  participation  in  the  varied  creative  and 
productive  efforts  of  man  that  make  possible  social 
life  under  modern  conditions. 

This  fact,  that  to  be  a  member  of  a  union  one 
must  be  a  worker,  that  to  be  allowed  to  take  part 
in  the  life  of  this  new  social  force  one  must  be  a 
contributor,  a  carrier,  of  our  task  of  building  and 
beautifying  the  world,  makes  all  the  difference  be- 
tween it  and  any  other  organized  movement  for 
democracy.  It  must  be  clearly  and  finally  realized 
that  labor  in  this  sense  means  any  useful  work 
essential  to  the  social  life  of  the  community.  The 
actor,  the  teacher,  the  university  professor,  has  a 
place  next  to  the  hod-carrier,  the  street  cleaner  and 
the  mechanic.  There  they  all  meet  on  the  same  basis 
of  equality — they  are  all  participants  in  the  com- 
munity's essential  functions. 

This  differentiation  of  the  organized  labor  move- 
ment gives  the  "Dictatorship  of  the  Proletariat"  a 
peculiar  significance.  It  must  be  examined  and 
evaluated  in  terms  of  this  basis  of  labor  organiza- 
tion. The  phrase  "Dictatorship  of  the  Proletariat" 
is  a  revolutionary  slogan — battle-cry,  an  emotional 
summary  of  an  ideal.  It  is  in  this  sense  to  be  com- 
pared with  such  other  political  slogans  as  have  been 


COMRADESHIP  107 

born  of  the  vortex  of  revolution.  The  French 
"Liberty,  Fraternity  and  Equality,"  is  a  good 
example  of  a  similar  condensation  in  statement  of 
political  ends  and  ideals. 

But  the  Dictatorship  has  another  basis  of  sig- 
nificance than  that  which  it  might  be  accorded  as 
the  summary  of  a  political  ideal  and  revolutionary 
battle-cry.  Its  peculiar  value  does  not  lie  in  the 
sense  that  it  implies  a  dictatorship.  There  have  been 
dictatorships  before.  It  does  not  lie  in  the  fact  even 
that  it  is  the  dictatorship  of  a  majority  over  a 
minority.  There  have  been  such  dictatorships  in 
the  world  before.  Its  real  contribution  to  political 
practice  and  ideals  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  has  drawn 
the  simplest  distinction  between  man  and  man  and 
made  that  distinction  the  basis  of  citizenship. 

Governments  have  at  all  times  determined  the 
conditions  upon  which  they  admitted  the  individual 
to  citizenship.  This  fact  has  been  as  constant  as 
group  organization.  The  Bantu  Negroes,  the  Chin- 
ese, and  the  people  of  the  United  States  have  this 
one  fact  in  common — that  to  be  a  member  in  good 
standing  one  has  to  conform  to  certain  specified 
regulations,  to  certain  provisions  in  the  process  of 
initiation  into  membership.  Amongst  some  of  the 
Negro  tribes  the  initiation  includes  blindfolding  and 
the  forcible  knocking  out  of  a  tooth,  all  of  which 
is  performed  in  accord  with  ancient  rule,  with 
proper  pomp  and  with  all  of  the  solemnity  required 
by  traditional  procedure. 

In  the  United  States,  initiation  to  the  rights  of 
citizenship  is  conditioned  by  certain  specified  reg- 


108  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

ulations  of  time  and  includes  a  formal  declaration 
of  loyalty  and  the  taking  of  an  oath,  all  of  which, 
as  with  the  Negroes,  carries  with  it  a  solemnity 
and  a  definiteness  without  which  the  granting  of  the 
right  to  citizenship  would  be  considered  a  violation 
of  the  law.  In  short,  all  governments  have  gener- 
ally been  characterized  by  this  process — they  have 
all  decided  for  themselves  who  could  and  who  could 
not  be  a  citizen.  This  fact  was  constant,  but  the 
conditions  varied  with  time  and  circumstances.  To 
be  a  citizen  has  at  different  times  meant  to  be  a 
member  of  a  certain  class.  These  conditions,  these 
formal  demarcations,  have  included  at  times  class, 
property,  education,  sex,  and  color  qualifications. 
It  is  in  this  sense  that  governments  have  always 
been  dictatorships — dictatorships  in  which  the  dic- 
tators themselves  determined  the  conditions  of  ad- 
mission into  the  privileged  group. 

It  must  be  obvious,  however,  that  these  conditions 
are  highly  exclusive.  It  is  difficult  to  escape  from 
one's  class,  to  acquire  property,  to  secure  an  educa- 
tion, and  it  is  impossible  to  change  one's  color,  sex 
or  race.  There  is  no  way  to  become  a  citizen  under 
these  conditions;  exclusion  is  permanent.  It  is  a 
distinction  that  cannot  be  bridged.  It  sets  off  man 
from  man  in  terms  and  qualifications  which  can- 
not be  acquired.  It  makes  democracy  impossible 
and  makes  invidious  distinctions  inevitable.  This 
has  been  and  still  is  to  a  large  extent  the  basis  of 
government. 

In  the  United  States,  for  instance,  citizenship 
is  circumscribed  by  time,  by  birth,  by  residence, 


COMRADESHIP  109 

and,  in  addition,  some  of  the  States  include  qualifica- 
tions of  property  and  sex ; 1  in  the  South,  color  is  a 
practical  if  not  a  legal  bar  to  citizenship.  Put  in 
another  form,  governments  have  been  based  on 
slavery — on  the  subject  of  a  monarchy,  or  on  the 
citizen  of  a  democracy.  Men  have  been  slaves,  have 
admitted  loyalty  to  a  king,  and  are  to-day  equals  be- 
fore the  law ;  but  men  have  never  been  classed  as  co- 
workers  and  that  classification  made  the  basis  of 
citizenship. 

The  significance  of  the  "Dictatorship  of  the  Pro- 
letariat" is  that  it  is  a  new  construction  of  citizen- 
ship in  which  the  formula  that  divides  the  citizens 
from  the  non-citizens  is  the  simplest  and  most  in- 
clusive that  has  ever  been  made  the  practical  basis 
of  government.  The  requirement  for  citizenship  is 
labor.  This  distinction  excludes  from  active  citizen- 
ship only  the  imbecile  and  the  child.  The  distinc- 
tions of  race,  class,  color,  sex,  religion,  property, 
and  education  have  no  significance  for  admission  to 
the  right  and  privilege  of  the  group. 

From  the  point  of  view  of  labor,  all  men  are 
equal  in  the  sense  that  all  men  are  workers.  The 
old  cry  of  fraternity  and  equality  has  at  last  received 
its  conditions  of  fulfillment — the  reducing  of  men 
to  some  one  standard  of  human  significance  in 
which  they  all  can  be  participants.  This  division 
between  worker  and  non-worker  eliminates  the 
claims  for  special  privileges  and  for  special  powers 
on  account  of  any  "vested  interest."  All  men  must 
live  by  their  work,  and  in  work  all  men  have  the 

1  Sex  has  now  been  eliminated  as  a  qualification  for  voting. 


110  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

same  share — a  share  that  differs  only  in  kind  but 
not  in  fact.  The  old  barriers  between  man  and 
man,  the  barriers  of  race,  of  class,  of  religion,  of 
sex,  lose  their  meaning  in  practical  application  un- 
der a  system  that  reduces  the  basis  of  group 
privilege  and  citizenship  to  the  one  thing  that  all 
men  may  do — work. 

It  is  important  to  understand  fully  this  demand 
of  the  revolutionary  movement  that  all  men  must 
work,  and  the  light  it  throws  upon  all  of  the  new 
values  which  are  being  developed  in  the  current 
economic  struggle.  The  revolutionary  labor  gov- 
ernment of  Russia  and  the  conservative  labor  move- 
ment in  the  United  States  have  this  thing  in  common 
as  a  conscious  basis  of  participation  in  their  group 
activities.  No  one  may  enter  a  labor  union  who 
is  not  a  worker.  No  one  may  be  a  citizen  in  Russia 
who  will  not  work. 

What  a  flood  of  light  is  thrown  upon  the  very 
character  of  all  labor  activities  by  this  simple  com- 
parison, by  this  placing  of  the  revolutionary  labor 
government  of  Russia  side  by  side  with  conservative 
labor  organizations  in  other  countries.  In  the  one 
fundamental  thing  upon  which  all  else  is  determined 
they  are  both  agreed — that  none  may  enter  the 
group  who  is  not  a  worker.  The  difference  is  that 
in  Russia  this  condition  is  universal,  while  with  us 
it  is  gradually  assuming  forms  of  universality.  In 
Russia  this  condition  came  into  universal  existence 
by  revolution,  while  here  it  is  achieving  community 
representation  by  gradual  if  not  entirely  peaceful 
means. 


COMRADESHIP  111 

The  growth  of  the  labor  movement  leaves  an 
ever  more  narrow  gap  between  the  industrial  citizen 
and  the  non-citizen.  How  narrow  the  gap  will  grow 
before  all  personal  privileges  will  be  evaluated  in 
terms  of  labor  rather  than  in  terms  of  possession 
is  at  present  not  to  be  determined.  It  may  well  be, 
however,  that  with  the  present  rapid  growth  of 
organization  of  labor  the  greater  part  of  the  work- 
ing community  will  be  included  in  the  industrial 
organization  in  a  short  time,  and  that  would  make 
the  thing  which  is  called  a  "Dictatorship  of  the 
Proletariat"  the  natural  consequence  of  the  activ- 
ities of  the  labor  movement.  It  would  simply  mean 
that  all  men  would  participate  in  the  functioning 
of  the  community  on  the  basis  of  their  personal 
contribution  and  not  on  the  grounds  of  legal  sanc- 
tion or  "vested  interest."  Such  seems  the  logical 
result  of  the  growth  of  labor  organization. 

The  spiritual  and  social  consequences  of  such  a 
change  are  revolutionary.  It  tends  to  make  men 
and  women  value  their  labor  and  not  their  posses- 
sions. Respect  and  honor  tend  to  flow  in  the  di- 
rection of  service  rather  than  in  the  direction  of 
legal  control.  1  It  tends  to  upset  all  of  the  current 
values,  all  of  our  current  methods  of  control  and 
direction.  It  tends  to  give  power  where  power 
actually  is,  in  its  factual  rather  than  its  legal  pos- 
session. Socially  it  reduces  all  men  to  a  greater 
personal  equality,  to  a  greater  conscious  personal  in- 
terdependence and  to  greater  harmony,  for  it  tends 
to  make  the  interest  of  each  the  interest  of  all.  The 

1  Think  of  Robert  Smillie  and  Lloyd  George. 


112  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

interesting  point  is  that  the  conservative  and  the 
revolutionary  labor  movement,  the  Russian  revo- 
lutionary government  and  the  American  Federation 
of  Labor,  have  in  their  practical  applications  bas- 
ically the  same  grounds  of  evaluation — work. 


CHAPTER  IX 

CONSERVATIVE  AND  RADICAL  LABOR 

ALL  organized  labor  is  revolutionary  in  fact  if 
not  in  thought.  This  is  the  striking  implica- 
tion of  the  labor  movement.  It  is  not  revolutionary 
because  it  wills  to  be;  it  is  revolutionary  because 
its  activities  are  such  without  regard  to  the  im- 
mediate object  in  hand.  Organized  labor  is  re- 
volutionary because  it  is  the  organized  embodiment 
of  what  must  be  described  as  a  comprehensive  social 
transformation.  The  unsettled,  turbulent  strife 
characterized  by  struggle  between  employers  and 
workers — a  struggle  which  assumes  larger  propor- 
tions as  the  workers  become  better  organized — is 
often  popularly  called  the  movement  for  industrial 
democracy. 

Organized  labor  gives  this  movement  its  most 
poignant  form  and  content.  The  labor  movement 
is  in  fact,  from  this  point  of  view,  not  to  be  de- 
scribed in  terms  of  a  "problem."  There  is  no  labor 
problem,  broadly  speaking — there  is  only  a  process 
of  rapid  transformation  from  one  type  of  social 
organization  to  another.  It  is  a  process  of  rapid 
growth,  of  realignment  of  forces  from  one  type  of 
•  113 


114  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

economic  grouping  to  another.  The  machine  has 
changed  the  face  of  the  world  and  the  labor  move- 
ment is  the  method  of  readjustment  to  this  fact. 
It  is  the  visible  means  of  what  might  broadly  be 
described  as  social  digestion — of  including  the  ma- 
chine and  its  implications  in  the  re-grouping  which 
it  has  forced  upon  the  world. 

The  labor  movement  seems  destined  to  be  to 
capitalism  what  the  capitalist  system  was  to  the 
feudal  organization  of  society.  It  would  be  in- 
congruous to  speak  of  the  decay  of  feudalism  and 
the  growth  of  capitalism  as  a  "problem,"  except  in 
the  sense  of  the  historian  who  might  describe  the 
process.  For  the  people  concerned  with  the  change 
at  the  time  of  its  actual  occurrence  it  was  revolution. 
So,  too,  is  the  labor  movement.  It  is  revolution — 
and  the  revolution  is  not  to  come.  It  is  here.  Every 
strike,  every  working  class  committee,  every  con- 
tract between  worker  and  employer,  every  working 
class  council,  be  it  Whiteley  or  Shop  Steward,  is  an 
element  in  the  process.  They  all  have  the  same 
tendency  to  increase  the  power  of  the  worker,  even 
if  their  immediate  motives,  outlook,  ideals  and  pur- 
pose are  different. 

The  development  of  capitalism  was  no  problem 
which,  from  the  feudal  point  of  view,  could  be 
solved.  There  was  no  solution  for  the  rising  cap- 
italist system  which  feudalism  could  provide  and 
yet  remain  intact.  It  had  to  be  shed.  There  is  no 
solution,  and  there  is  no  labor  problem  for  which  a 
solution  can  be  found  by  present-day  social  organ- 
ization. The  growth  of  the  power  of  labor  and 


CONSERVATIVE  AND  RADICAL     115 

capitalism  are  seemingly  as  antithetical  as  were 
feudalism  and  the  system  of  free  labor,  interna- 
tional commerce  and  the  growth  of  the  bourgoisie. 
They  could  not  both  exist  in  the  same  social  or- 
ganization. From  this  point  of  view  organized  labor 
is  not  something  which  "experts"  can  deal  with, 
nor  is  it  like  a  problem  in  algebra  for  which  a 
formula  may  be  discovered.  This  change  is  world- 
wide. Present-day  society  the  world  over  is  obvi- 
ously bound  up  in  this  great  and  intense  process  of 
reorganization — from  Russia  to  Japan  and  from 
Argentine  to  Alaska.  There  is  not  a  place  upon 
the  globe  where  men  meet  to  work  in  factory  and 
mine  that  this  growth  of  labor  organizations,  this 
struggle  for  power,  for  control,  for  self-determina- 
tion by  the  workers,  is  not  manifested.  This  is 
no  "problem."  It  is  a  social  metamorphosis  of 
universal  extent. 

When  described  in  these  terms  the  labor  move- 
ment becomes  significant  primarily  on  account  of 
its  inclusiveness.  It  is  broader  than  any  program, 
than  any  party,  than  any  social  labor  organization. 
All  of  these,  from  that  of  the  craft  unions  to  the 
demand  for  minimum  wage,  social  insurance,  in- 
dustrial unionism,  revolutionary  strikes  and  peace- 
ful collective  bargaining — all  are  but  parts  of  the 
labor  movement.  It  includes  them  all.  They  all 
contribute  towards  the  organization  and  education 
of  labor  in  the  process  and  problems  of  technique 
and  control  over  their  own  destinies.  That  may 
not  be  the  aim  and  end  of  the  movements  involved, 
but  it  is  their  chief  consequence.  Every  step  in 


116  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

the  process,  every  little  struggle,  every  passion, 
every  bitterness,  every  bit  of  sympathy  and  pity, 
every  bit  of  hope  and  idealism  which  receives  an 
organized  embodiment,  contributes  to  this  remaking 
of  the  world.  These  groupings  are  chiefly  sig- 
nificant because  they  serve  as  a  stimulus  to  the 
imagination,  to  training  in  the  powers  of  organiza- 
tion and  cooperative  discipline,  and  the  stiffening 
of  the  will  for  the  control  of  the  world's  destinies, 
which  the  workers  are  manifesting  everywhere  and 
in  always  greater  intensity. 

Nor  can  the  labor  movement  be  described  in 
political  terms.  A  labor  union  is  as  different  from 
a  political  party  as  day  is  from  night.  And  to 
speak  of  the  organized  workers,  as  we  do  of  political 
organizations,  describing  them  as  reactionary,  re- 
formist, or  even  radical,  is  to  apply  terms  to  the 
labor  movement  that  have  little  if  any  meaning. 
A  political  organization  may  be  either  revolutionary 
or  conservative.  That  is,  it  may  be  organized  for 
the  purpose  of  maintaining  the  status  quo  or  for 
the  purpose  of  capturing  power  and  changing  the 
present  for  some  differently  conceived  organization. 
This  is,  however,  not  the  method  by  which  the  labor 
movement  operates. 

A  labor  union  is  revolutionary  in  fact.  It  is  not 
the  expressed  desire  to  change  the  world;  it  is  the 
change  already  embodied  if  not  completed. 

What  a  political  party  says  it  would  like  to  do 
and  what  the  labor  union,  even  the  most  conserv- 
ative in  outlook,  does,  cannot  be  compared  or 
described  in  terms  of  similarity.  A  labor  union  is 


CONSERVATIVE  AND  RADICAL     117 

a  new  realignment  of  social  forces  in  the  community 
— a  revolutionary,  democratic,  cooperative  group- 
ing of  men  and  women  around  the  tools  and  the  in- 
dustry with  which  they  are  concerned,  and  the 
grouping  has  only  one  purpose  and  one  result — the 
constantly  greater  control  of  the  machine,  the  in- 
dustry, the  tool  which  happens  to  be  their  particular 
means  of  life  and  labor. 

Revolutionary  activity  consists  in  the  absorption, 
the  wresting  of  power  and  control  by  one  group 
from  another — and  that  is  what  every  labor  union 
does.  It  gains  power  from  the  employer.  The 
most  important  part  of  the  process  is  the  first  step. 
Once  the  organization  is  begun  the  logic  of  their 
struggle  and  the  discipline  of  their  unity  drives  the 
workers  to  constantly  greater  effectiveness  and  more 
control,  regardless  of  either  avowed  aim  or  political 
ideal.  The  control  of  the  machine  is  the  pressing 
problem  of  the  present  political  situation.  Con- 
servative and  radical,  revolutionary  and  reformist 
parties  are  each  and  all  concerned  with  the  question 
of  how  the  machine  is  to  be  controlled.  Each 
political  party  answers  this  question  in  different 
ways.  The  labor  unions  have  only  one  answer. 
Their  answer  is  simple,  direct  and  expressed  in 
action — the  workers  must  control.  They  all  make 
this  answer  in  so  far  as  they  have  the  power,  and 
they  always  try  to  increase  that.  He  who  doubts 
this  may  reflect  upon  the  fact  that  any  attempt  to 
take  away  such  power  as  the  workers  already  have 
would  be  met  with  steel-like  resistance,  and  that  any 
attempt  to  set  a  limit  to  the  growth  of  the  labor 


118  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

movement  would  be  scorned.  The  workers  hold 
what  they  have  and  they  want  more.  They  all  want 
it  without  regard  to  ultimate  purpose,  reactionary 
or  conservative. 

It  must  always  be  remembered  that  men  in  labor 
unions  have  common  problems,  common  interests, 
common  background  of  experience,  constant  per- 
sonal contact,  direct  knowledge  and  immediate 
power  over  industry.  These  facts  are  all  given  their 
importance  only  when  the  workers  are  organized. 
The  individual  worker  is  helpless.  The  organized 
worker  has  power.  The  real  struggle  is  for  organ- 
isation and  not  for  the  program  after  organization 
is  completed.  This  is  the  revolutionary  sig- 
nificance of  the  labor  movement.  Its  program  is 
achieved  if  it  has  complete  or  anywhere  nearly  com- 
plete organization.  Then  it  becomes  a  matter  of 
scientific  use  of  power  for  the  best  social  ends,  a 
problem  of  statesmanship.  A  political  organization 
needs  to  conquer  power  after  it  is  organized  and 
then  to  use  it  indirectly.  The  labor  movement  once 
organized  has  already  achieved  all  the  power  it  is 
ever  going  to  have,  except  such  as  will  come 
from  greater  experience  and  knowledge.  A  labor 
union  takes  the  individual  competitive  worker  and 
gives  him  cooperative  strength  for  direct  use  in  his 
industry  after  organization. 

Labor  is  thus  revolutionary,  not  because  it  or- 
ganizes for  purposes  of  control  and  change,  but 
because  its  very  organization  is  the  essence  of  con- 
trol and  change.  This  is  the  consequence  of  all 
organized  labor.  The  rest  of  the  chapter  is  con- 


CONSERVATIVE  AND  RADICAL     119 

cerned  with  the  discussion  of  the  separation  of  the 
different  labor  unions  into  conservative  and  radical. 
It  is  the  thesis  of  this  chapter  that  all  labor  unions 
are  equally  revolutionary  and  equally  conservative. 
They  are  as  revolutionary  and  as  conservative  as 
their  organized  power  and  not  their  words  make 
them.  A  revolutionary  theory  may  prove  in  action 
a  conservative  working  force,  while  a  con- 
servative theory  may  be  revolutionary  in  terms 
of  actual  change.  It  compels  because  of  the  power 
it  has. 

The  labor  movement  is  generally  described  as 
either  radical  or  conservative.  This  description  is 
assumed  to  be  a  statement  of  the  basic  difference 
that  the  two  forms  of  organized  labor  exhibit.  The 
grounds  upon  which  this  differentiation  is  made 
are  supposed  to  be  evident  in  the  formal  structure, 
method,  avowed  purpose  and  principles  which  are 
said  to  be  characteristic  of  the  different  groups  in 
the  labor  movement.  The  conservative  labor  move- 
ment is  said  to  be  safe,  sane,  law  abiding  and 
orderly.  It  is  repeatedly  pointed  out  that  it  accepts 
the  present  economic  system,  that  it  believes  in 
contracts,  that  it  is  opposed  to  the  One  Big  Union, 
that  it  avows  itself  against  violence  and  other  forms 
of  activity  which  seem  to  be  typical  of  the  radical 
labor  elements.  All  of  these  outstanding  differences 
in  the  labor  movement  are  so  obvious  and  have 
been  the  basis  of  so  much  discussion  and  struggle 
that  it  seems  generally  to  have  been  overlooked  that 
this  description  tells  very  little  of  the  real  function 
of  organized  labor.  Yet  a  moment's  thought  will 


120  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

convince  anyone  that  any  divergence,  any  vital 
distinction  between  the  radical  and  conservative 
labor  movement  must  be  found  and  must  be  stated 
in  terms  of  contradictory  functions,  if  any,  that 
these  labor  organizations  perform.  It  makes  little 
difference  whether  an  apple  is  described  as  green  or 
red.  Both  may  be  sweet. 

Very  little  has  been  said  about  the  labor  move- 
ment when  it  has  been  described  as  radical  or 
conservative,  as  industrial  or  trade  unionism,  as 
favoring  or  rejecting  the  present  system.  These 
distinctions  seem  to  be  important.  But  are  they? 
The  difference  between  them  must  be  found  in  the 
things  they  do;  not  what  their  avowed  purpose  is, 
but  in  what  the  actual  consequence  of  their  activity 
is.  The  discrimination  between  conservative  and 
radical  when  applied  to  the  labor  movement  will 
hold  water  only  when  the  activity  of  the  one  or- 
ganization is  in  its  results  different  from  the  other. 

The  statement  of  the  proposition  in  this  form 
places  the  problem  in  a  new  light.  We  shift  our 
interest  and  our  attention  from  appearance,  from 
belief  to  consequence,  to  factual  results.  We  want 
to  know,  not  what  the  labor  movement  is  called, 
not  what  it  thinks  it  ought  to  be  called,  not  what  it 
believes,  but  what  it  does.  What  does  the  labor 
movement  do  ?  What  is  the  difference  in  the  actual 
function  of  the  conservative  and  radical  labor  move- 
ment? The  simple  answer  to  this  question  is  that 
all  labor  organizations,  regardless  of  their  name, 
their  ideals,  their  structure,  their  method,  actually 
do  the  same  thing. 


CONSERVATIVE  AND  RADICAL     121 

I  do  not  mean  so  much  that  all  labor  participates 
in  practically  the  same  activities,  that  all  organized 
workers  strike,  increase  wages,  shorten  hours  of 
labor — but  rather  that  they  all  increase  the  power 
of  Labor;  that  they  all  substitute  a  group  control 
for  individual  control;  that  they  all  tend  to  in- 
crease intelligence,  initiative  and  self-reliance  on  the 
part  of  the  workers;  and,  more  important  than  all 
else,  that  they  all  tend  to  eliminate  the  capitalist 
system  by  substituting  the  capitalist's  function,  by 
absorbing  his  power  and  wresting  control  from  his 
hands  and  placing  it  in  the  keeping  of  the  workers. 
Every  labor  movement  performs  this  service,  and 
no  labor  movement  does  more  than  gradually  dis- 
place the  capitalist  system  by  absorbing  the  control 
and  directive  power  of  the  capitalist. 

Any  analysis  of  the  history  of  labor  organizations 
will  make  this  self-evident.  The  labor  movement 
began  as  an  isolated  small-group  affair.  It  had  its 
beginnings  in  small  shops,  in  single  trades,  in 
narrow  localities.  In  the  last  one  hundred  years 
it  has  grown  from  single-shop  organizations  to  or- 
ganizations in  great  industries;  from  the  city  local 
it  has  become  international;  from  demanding  little 
more  than  better  wages  it  has  come  to  demand 
direct  control  and  mastery  of  industry  as  among 
the  railway  workers  in  America,  the  miners  in  Great 
Britain.  It  has  year  by  year  become  more  power- 
ful, more  dominating,  more  intelligent  and  more 
insistent.  It  tends  to  increase  its  own  power  and  to 
decrease  that  of  the  capitalist  system.  It  is  true  that 
it  has  not  yet  arrived  at  what  seems  its  final  goal — 


122  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

the  elimination  of  private  control,  but  it  has 
traveled  a  long  way  from  its  early  and  timid  be- 
ginnings.1 It  is  important  to  realize  the  full  sig- 
nificance of  this  growth  of  labor,  for  it  is  the 
substitution  of  the  group  for  the  individual  in  the 
dominion  of  industry  the  substitution  of  coopera- 
tion for  competition  as  the  motivating  force  in 
economic  activity. 

The  labor  movement  fully  developed,  and  the 
existence  of  the  competitive  method  of  production, 
are  seemingly  not  compatible.  There  is  no  place  in 
the  same  social  organization  for  both  of  these  meth- 
ods of  control,  and  the  inevitable  tendency  of  the 
labor  movement  is  to  grow  ever  more  powerful, 
more  dominating  and  more  impatient  of  the  indi- 
vidualistic profit-making  element  in  the  community. 
This,  however,  is  a  trait  common  to  both  the  con- 
servative and  the  radical  labor  organizations.  They 
both  tend  to  become  more  powerful  and  more  im- 
patient and  more  insistent  as  a  consequence  of  their 
activity.  There  is  thus  little  difference  in  the  con- 
sequence of  their  function  regardless  of  the  con- 
cepts with  which  they  started  out. 

The  radical  labor  movement  begins  by  assuming 
some  final  revolutionary  goal  and  indulges  in  a 
struggle  for  immediate  and  particular  objects — or- 
ganization, power,  better  conditions  and  othen 
immediate  ends,  while  the  conservative  labor  move- 

*  Think  of  the  social  change  implied  in  the  power  of  labor 
in  England  to  make  the  recent  threat  of  a  general  strike  and 
remember  that  a  hundred  years  ago  Trade  Unions  were  out- 
lawed and  considered  criminal  associations. 


CONSERVATIVE  AND  RADICAL     123 

ment  begins  with  a  struggle  for  the  immediate  and 
develops  the  power  that  tends  to  eliminate  the 
capitalist  control  of  industry.  The  radical  labor 
movement  wants  to  destroy  the  capitalist  system 
and  has  this  objective  in  mind  in  most  of  its  ac- 
tivities. The  conservative  labor  movement  tends  to 
destroy  it  without  knowing  it.  They  both  have  this 
one  thing  in  common  as  a  result  of  their  efforts — 
the  destruction  of  the  capitalist  system.  To  the 
conservative  it  is  a  consequence;  to  the  radical 
it  is  an  ideal  and  a  consequence.  The  radical  to 
achieve  his  ideal  must  develop  power.  The  con- 
servative develops  power  for  the  mastery  of  in- 
dustry, and  this  power  is  in  itself  a  proof  of  the 
function  of  the  labor  movement,  for  every  ounce 
of  labor  cohesion  and  strength  is  wrested  from  the 
capitalist  system  and  in  spite  of  it.  There  is  thus 
no  difference  in  the  distinction  generally  drawn  that 
has  any  significance  in  function  and  consequence. 
Organized  labor  is  the  mortal  enemy  of  the  present 
capitalist  system,  but  is  not  always  conscious  of 
it. 

There  is,  however,  one  difference  between  the 
radical  and  the  conservative  labor  movement.  That 
difference  is  not  of  form,  of  purpose,  of  method. 
These  are  trival  by  comparison.  For  any  labor 
movement  may  and  in  fact  does  assume  all  of  the 
different  possible  types  generally  classed  as  con- 
servative and  radical  without  changing  one  whit 
in  its  essence.  The  distinction  that  I  have  in  mind 
is  one  of  consciousness,  a  distinction  that  has  con- 
siderable significance.  The  real  and  vital  divergence, 


124  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

in  so  far  as  a  divergence  does  exist  between  the 
conservative  and  the  radical  labor  movement,  is 
that  the  first  is  not  conscious  of  the  significance  of 
its  own  activity.  The  radical  labor  movement  knows 
that  it  is  its  tendency,  its  destiny  and  the  logic  of 
its  growth  to  make  inevitable  the  elimination  of  the 
individualist  control  of  industry.  The  conservative 
may  not  realize  that.  The  operation  of  the  con- 
servative tends  unconsciously  in  the  same  direction 
as  that  of  the  radical  without  his  appreciating  the 
full  meaning  of  what  he  is  about. 

This  explains  much.  It  explains  the  fact,  for 
instance,  that  the  conservative  leader  often  dis- 
parages the  activity  of  the  radical  labor  movement 
as  subversive  and  revolutionary.  He  fails  to  realize 
that  he  is  in  the  same  boat.  He  fails  to  see  that 
everything  he  does  to  strengthen  the  power  and 
the  numbers  and  the  influence  of  the  organized  labor 
movement  is  no  less  revolutionary  in  its  results 
than  the  similar  activity  of  the  radical  labor  move- 
ment. It  explains  too  the  apparent  faith  that  our 
reactionaries  have  in  the  conservative  labor  organ- 
izations. It  makes  reasonable  the  absurd  insistence 
upon  the  fact  that  the  conservative  labor  movement 
is  loyal,  is  safe,  is  sane,  is  law-abiding.  They  seem 
to  take  the  conservative  labor  leaders  at  their  word 
— a  word  that  may  be  honest  enough — that  they 
accept  the  present  system,  that  they  do  not  intend 
to  destroy  it,  that  they  are  loyal  to  it.  But  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  the  labor  movement  is  loyal  only 
to  itself  because  its  activities  and  its  interests  are 
prime  to  it.  Its  interests  and  activities  are  always 


CONSERVATIVE  AND  RADICAL     125 

contrary  and  in  opposition  to  those  who  are  in 
present  control  of  industry. 

This  distinction  between  the  conservative  and 
radical  labor  movement,  as  one  of  consciousness, 
as  one  of  understanding  the  full  significance  of  its 
own  activity,  gives  the  radical  labor  movement  an 
additional  and  highly  important  function. 

It  is  true  that  all  organized  labor  is  revolutionary, 
but  only  a  part  of  it — the  radical  labor  element — 
is  consciously  so,  and  it  is  the  chief  significance  of 
the  radical  wing  of  the  labor  movement  that  it 
serves  as  an  educational  influence.  It  makes  his 
own  activities  meaningful  to  the  conservative.  It 
educates  the  labor  movement  into  a  realization  of 
its  own  inevitable  destiny.  I  say  inevitable  because 
the  only  way  the  conservative  labor  movement  could 
hope  to  save  the  individualist  system  would  be  by 
disbanding  its  organization  and  ceasing  its  activities. 
It  cannot  continue  to  function,  to  grow,  to  become 
powerful  as  a  labor  movement  without  ultimately 
displacing  the  capitalist  system,  and  the  radical 
element  in  the  labor  movement  serves  to  make  this 
fact  clear  and  conscious  to  the  conservative,  thus 
increasing  the  idealism  and  the  speed  as  well  as  the 
intensity  of  its  activity. 


CHAPTER  X 

INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT 

I 
THE  DISTRICT   COUNCIL 

IN  its  preamble  the  Industrial  Workers  of  the 
World  proclaims  that  in  organizing  along  in- 
dustrial lines  the  labor  movement  is  "building  the 
structure  of  a  new  society  within  the  shell  of  the 
old."  This  sounds  like  an  extravagant  statement. 
On  analysis,  however,  of  the  actual  contribution  to 
the  structural  changes  which  the  labor  movement  is 
making  in  society,  it  becomes  evident  that  the 
quoted  opinion  is  more  than  a  mere  wish. 

Labor  is  essentially  constructive  and  that  not 
only  in  its  influence  upon  motive,  purpose  and  co- 
operative function  but  also  in  its  contribution  to 
the  political  and  economic  reorganization  of  the 
community.  These  changes  are  concomitant  with 
the  growth  of  labor  organizations,  and  an  examina- 
tion of  the  community  in  which  labor  has  developed 
will  make  this  evident. 

A  city  like  New  York  represents  many  aspects 
of  social  organization,  but  its  predominant  char- 

126 


INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT         127 

acteristic  is  the  fact  that  it  consists  of  millions  of 
men  occupied  in  a  cooperative  process,  each  con- 
tributing to  the  sum  total  of  the  community  life. 
Most  people  in  the  city  are  specifically  employed 
at  something  and  dependent  for  support  upon  the 
rest  of  the  community.  The  baker  cooperates  by 
feeding  the  shoemaker,  the  butcher,  the  teacher  and 
the  electrician,  while  they  in  turn  contribute  their 
services  to  satisfying  his  needs.  This  process  goes 
on  without  end.  Every  individual  in  the  city  is  in 
some  way  closely  knit  into  the  body  of  the  rest  of 
the  people.  Be  he  a  contributor  or  recipient,  his 
dependence  is  immediate,  direct  and  constant.  His 
life  in  the  city  is  bound  up  with  a  thousand  threads 
over  which  as  an  individual  he  has  no  control  and 
the  breaking  of  which  would  either  disarrange  or 
threaten  his  life. 

This  activity  might  almost  be  described  as  un- 
conscious. It  is  an  habitual  mode  of  procedure  for 
those  individuals  who  have  acquired  some  particu- 
lar function  and  who  live  by  its  performance. 
Before  organization  of  labor  takes  place  each  in- 
dividual in  every  trade  is  by  and  large  an  inde- 
pendent and  disconnected  unit.  He  cooperates,  but 
his  cooperation  is  organic  rather  than  volitional.  He 
does  his  little  job  and  others  do  theirs,  blind  to  the 
connections  which  bind  their  individual  efforts  to- 
gether. 

Every  industrial  community  is  fairly  contained 
in  this  description.  Men  and  women  carry  on  their 
economic  activity  as  individuals  within  a  political 
setting  which  represents  them  as  a  group.  Differ- 


128  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

entiation  is  more  marked  between  communities  than 
between  individuals.  This  is  the  character  of  the 
political  community  before  the  labor  movement 
develops.  As  soon,  however,  as  labor  organizations 
come  into  existence  there  immediately  grows  up  a 
realignment  of  the  community's  forces  and  allegi- 
ances. 

The  political  community  may  be  compared  to  a 
circle  in  which  all  individuals  theoretically  occupy 
similar  places.  Each  individual  is  but  a  unit — and 
is  like  other  units  in  the  group.  But  wherever  labor 
organizations  are  developing,  this  circle  breaks  down 
and  is  replaced  by  a  new  kind  of  integration.  The 
labor  movement  begins  by  collecting  a  few  workers 
and  tying  them  together.  As  soon  as  two  or  more 
groups  have  been  formed  they  unite  in  a  kind  of 
central  federation — generally  called  a  Central  Fed- 
erated Union  or  District  Council.  That  is,  every 
labor  union  in  the  locality  is  supposed  to  have  re- 
presentation in  this  central  body.  As  soon  as  two 
are  organized  they  try  to  form  a  third  union,  the 
three  a  fourth,  and  the  four  a  fifth.  If  we  represent 
the  first  union  as  a  kind  of  little  circle  which  is 
developed  within  the  larger  political  unit,  every  time 
a  new  union  is  organized  this  new  labor  group 
grows  larger  and  more  representative  of  the  com- 
munity. 

What  labor  organization  implies  must  be  fully 
understood  if  we  are  to  appreciate  its  social  con- 
sequence. The  organization  of  a  trade  means  the 
giving  of  a  consciousness,  unity,  purpose,  integra- 
tion and  power  to  the  people  working  in  that  trade. 


INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT        129 

If  the  bakers  are  organized  it  means  that  some 
thousands  of  men  who  have  up  to  date  carried  on 
an  individual  function  within  the  cooperative  life 
of  the  community  have  suddenly  been  given  group 
consciousness.  Their  cooperation,  which  was  indi- 
vidual, has  now  become  corporate.  Group  interests, 
group  powers,  group  problems,  group  char- 
acter, have  suddenly  been  imposed  upon  an  im- 
portant industrial  function.  One  might  describe 
this  graphically  by  comparing  the  political  com- 
munity to  a  round  chocolate  cake  and  by  comparing 
the  process  of  organization  to  that  of  cutting  a 
slice  from  the  body  of  the  cake  and  giving  it  the 
power  of  withdrawing  itself  from  the  rest;  that  is, 
a  community  function  has  been  individualized  in  its 
corporate  consciousness  and  given  the  power  to 
control  its  activities  and  determine  the  basis  upon 
which  it  will  continue  to  work. 

Labor  does  not  stop  with  the  bakers.  It  organ- 
izes the  butchers,  the  teachers,  the  electricians,  the 
clothing  workers  and  the  many  others  who  make  the 
life  of  the  community  go  round,  from  the  street 
cleaner  to  the  actor.  What  all  this  means  is  that 
every  cooperative  function  hitherto  carried  on  by 
individuals  independently  is  given  a  group  contact, 
a  group  relation.  The  actors  who  as  individuals 
did  the  same  kind  of  work  they  are  now  doing  as  an 
organized  group  have  a  unity,  a  consciousness,  a 
power  and  a  sense  of  control  which  they  lacked 
before  organization.  The  individual  is  made  a  part 
of  a  larger  industrial  unit.  His  functional  co- 
operation with  the  community  is  hereafter  deter- 


130  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

mined  by  his  group  interests.  This  may  again  be 
represented  as  the  cutting  of  the  cake  into  additional 
pieces,  each  slice  representing  some  industrial  func- 
tion. As  the  labor  movement  is  growing  larger 
and  more  inclusive,  it  is  tending  to  contain  an  ever 
more  complete  representation  of  the  actual  cooper- 
ative needs  and  functions  of  the  community.  That 
is,  the  men  and  women  organized  and  given  cor- 
porate consciousness  by  the  labor  movement  are  the 
men  and  women  who  keep  the  community's  eco- 
nomic and  social  life  going. 

The  full  significance  of  this  change  becomes 
evident  when  we  realize  that  what  is  taking  place 
is  not  only  an  individualization  of  the  industrial 
functions,  but  their  incorporaiton.  Every  trade 
organized  is  not  only  made  individual  as  a  trade 
but  given  a  social  contact  through  the  Central 
Federated  Union  with  all  the  other  trades  and 
functions  which  have  achieved  similar  organic 
unity.  The  Central  Federated  Union  or  the  District 
Council  unites  the  different  unions.  It  is  composed 
of  delegated  members  from  each  local  and  each 
local  represents  some  function.  The  activities  of 
the  city  are  thus  mirrored  and  tied  together  in  the 
District  Council.  In  this  Council  there  is  a  tendency 
to  have  represented  all  the  industrial  power,  tech- 
nique, knowledge,  ideals,  passions  and  purposes  of 
the  men  and  women  who  do  the  city's  work.  It  is 
a  new  structure  in  social  organization  based  upon 
function.  These  men  and  women  represent  the 
working  activities  of  the  city,  its  industrial  tech- 
nique and  its  economic  problems.  They,  too,  re- 


INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT         131 

present  the  actual  working  power  of  the  community. 
The  represented  workers  know  just  where  the 
bread  is  baked,  just  how  the  milk  is  distributed, 
just  where  the  power  houses  for  lighting  the 
city  are,  just  where  the  locomotion,  sanitation  and 
amusements  of  the  city  are  controlled  and  operated. 
All  this  is  represented  in  increasing  totality  as  the 
labor  movement  enlarges  its  membership. 

This  fact  is  the  most  important  contribution  that 
the  labor  movement  has  made  to  local  political 
structure.  Without  planning  and  without  deliber- 
ately setting  out  to  upset  the  political  equilibrium 
of  the  community,  the  labor  organization,  simply 
in  the  natural  process  of  its  growth,  transfers  the 
power  of  the  community,  its  actual  power  and 
knowledge,  its  control  and  discipline,  from  a  polit- 
ical to  an  economic  affiliation.  The  central  labor 
union  represents  the  outline  of  the  new  structure 
of  community  government  which  the  labor  move- 
ment is  creating  as  a  consequence  of  its  growth. 

This  process  is  gradual.  It  consists  of  two 
distinct  functions.  First,  it  organizes  men  around 
their  industry  and  gives  them  a  corporate  con- 
sciousness in  terms  of  their  contribution  and  place 
in  the  community,  and  second,  it  ties  these  corporate 
bodies  together  through  representation  on  a  common 
council.  We  thus  have  the  development  of  a  dis- 
tinctly new  power,  the  limits  of  which  cannot  at 
present  be  foreshadowed  except  as  the  numbers, 
functions,  powers  and  knowledge  represented  by 
the  increasingly  inclusive  industrial  community  in- 
dicates them. 


132  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

What  is  actually  happening  can  be  understood 
best    by    comparing    this    new    industrial    council 
with  the  mayor's  office.    The  mayor  has  the  political 
powers  of  the  community  vested  in  him,  and  with 
him  are  associated  such  functionaries  as  the  chief 
of  police,  the  heads  of  the  departments  of  correc- 
tion, health,  water  supply,  and  so  forth.     What  is 
the  comparison  of  the  sum  total  of  the  knowledge, 
power,  and  control  represented  by  the  mayor  when 
set  off  against  the  knowledge,  contract,  and  immedi- 
ate powers  of  control  represented  by  the  individual- 
ized industrial  corporate  bodies  as  united  in  the  dis- 
trict council  ?  The  district  council  contains,  in  theory 
anyway,  all  the  important  functions  of  the  com- 
munity— light,  gas,  water,  bread,  milk,  locomotion, 
amusement,  every  conceivable  cooperation  function. 
It  can  bring  the  life  of  the  city  to  a  standstill.     It 
is  true,  of  course,  that  the  mayor  controls  the  Board 
of   Health,   but  then  the  nurses  and  hospital   at- 
tendants may  belong  to  the  industrial  union.     It  is 
also  true  that  he  controls  the  police,  if  the  police  are 
not  members  of  the  central  federated  union.1    I  am 
not  at  present  doing  anything  more  than  trying  to 
describe  the  fact  that  a  change  is  taking  place  and 
that  this  change  is  in  proportion  to  the  degree  of 
organization  of  the  workers  in  the  community.     In 
so  far  as  the  workers  are  organized  they  transfer 
the  powers  of  the  community  from  the  old  geo- 
graphical-political   to    the    new    industrial-political 
grouping.     This  change   is  concomitant  with  the 
labor  movement.    It  is  a  part  of  the  change  in  the 

1  Think  of  Boston. 


INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT        133 

political  structure  which  labor  organization  is 
bringing  about. 

The  local  general  strikes  in  Belfast,  Winnipeg, 
and  Seattle  illustrated  this  fact.  In  each  of  these 
three  cities,  and  especially  in  Belfast  and  Seattle, 
the  political  organization  found  itself  practically 
impotent  in  trying  to  carry  on  the  ordinary  func- 
tions of  the  community. 

In  Belfast  the  streets  were  cleaned,  mail  delivered, 
hospitals  cared  for,  milk  delivered,  garbage  taken 
away  by  permission  of  the  central  organization  of 
the  workers.  In  Seattle  the  same  problems  arose 
and  they  were  handled  by  the  workers — the  prob- 
lems of  sanitation,  food  and  milk  delivery.  It  be- 
came evident  as  soon  as  the  strike  was  declared 
that  the  workers  would  have  to  undertake  certain 
responsibilities — for  instance,  the  removal  of  or- 
ganic matter  from  the  public  streets,  the  mainten- 
ance of  the  water  supply,  the  establishment  of 
restaurants.  These  facts  were  presented  vividly  to 
the  workers  by  the  circumstance  that  if  they  did 
not  do  these  things  they  would  remain  undone. 

The  strike  committee  was  forced  into  making 
political  decisions — decisions  of  priority,  including 
even  that  of  appointing  a  worker's  police  force  to 
maintain  order.  They  had  to  do  these  things  not 
only  from  choice  but  from  compulsion — they  and 
only  they  had — not  legal  but  actual — power  to 
do  them,  under  the  Conditions.  What  is  this 
but  evidence  of  the  fact  that  power  shifts 
from  the  political  grouping  to  the  industrial 
as  the  workers  organize?  We  thus  see  that 


134  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

the  growth  of  labor  power  apart  from  any  po- 
litical ambition  which  it  may  have  tends  to  absorb 
this  control  of  the  community  and  in  time  of  crisis 
finds  itself  in  possession  of  it.  That  this  is  not 
always  a  conscious  process  is  illustrated  interestingly 
by  a  remark  of  one  of  the  strike  committee  of  fifteen 
who  were  in  charge  of  the  Seattle  strike.  When 
accused  of  being  a  revolutionist  and  carrying  on 
revolutionary  activities  against  the  government,  he 
said  :  "Why,  we  were  not  revolutionists.  We  were 
ready  to  give  the  mayor  anything  within  reason." 
It  never  occurred  to  him  that  for  the  workers  to 
be  able  to  give  anything  within  reason  as  a  voluntary 
offering  to  the  political  state  was  in  itself  the  most 
revolutionary  of  all  facts  about  the  situation. 

The  labor  movement,  however,  is  only  in  its  be- 
ginnings. Before  any  judgment  of  the  contribu- 
tions of  the  labor  movement  to  social  organization 
is  made  this  must  be  fully  recognized.  The  labor 
movement  is  really  rebuilding  our  social  structure. 
It  is  doing  it  without  planning,  yet  it  is  making 
a  definitely  different  social  organization  out  of  our 
present  political  democracy.  This  is  one  of  labor's 
great  contributions  to  the  future — a  contribution 
which  is  only  foreshadowed  by  this  reconstruction 
of  the  community's  forces. 


CHAPTER  XI 

INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT 

II 
THE  INDUSTRIAL   UNION 

'T'HE  labor  movement  is  developing  new  political 
•••  institutions.  These  institutions  are  industrial 
in  character.  They  are  industrial  in  character  be- 
cause the  worker's  chief  problems  arise  from  his 
function  in  industry  and  his  contact  with  the 
machine.  This  is  an  age  of  large-scale  industry 
and  the  labor  unions  are  compelled  to  adjust  them- 
selves to  that  fact.  Their  adjustment  takes  the 
form  of  gradual  transition  from  trade  unionism  to 
industrial  unionism.  In  fact,  this  transition  has 
not  kept  pace  with  the  rapidity  of  the  general  in- 
dustrial change. 

I  say  "industrial  union"  because  the  drift  towards 
organization  in  terms  of  industries  is  the  outstand- 
ing fact  of  the  contemporary  labor  situation.  Not 
only  is  industrial  versus  craft  unionism  one  of  the 
dominant  topics  of  discussion  and  interest  amongst 
workers  but  it  is  actually  the  form  of  organization 
which  many  industries  have  already  forced  upon 

135 


136  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

their  workers  willingly  or  unwillingly.  The  workers 
are  compelled  to  develop  industrial  unions  because 
an  industry  knows  little  of  crafts.  It  is  an  integrated 
whole  that  works  as  a  unit,  and  the  labor  movement 
grows  to  meet  that  fact.  This  tendency  is  evident 
even  from  the  most  cursory  glance  over  the  indus- 
trial situation.  We  have  definite  industrial  union 
movements  in  Australia,  New  Zealand,  and  Western 
Canada,  and  there  is  insistent  agitation  for  it  by 
the  Industrial  Workers  of  the  World  in  this  coun- 
try. The  triple  alliance  in  England,  the  railroad 
brotherhoods  in  America  who  work  as  a  unit,  the 
departments  developing  in  the  American  Federation 
of  Labor,  the  Amalgamated  Clothing  Workers 
Union,  the  United  Mine  Workers  of  America,  in- 
cluding all  the  workers  around  the  mines,  are 
unmistakable  evidences  of  this  trend. 

What  is  happening  is  this.  The  workers  em- 
ployed about  an  industry,  all  the  workers,  the 
skilled  and  the  unskilled,  those  who  have  crafts  and 
the  common  laborers,  the  clerical  and  the  pro- 
fessional, seem  in  some  way  or  other  to  show  a 
marked  urge  to  organize.  The  organization  begins 
generally  in  separate  localities  and  often  in  individ- 
ual trades.  These  organizations  in  various  local- 
ities are  duplicated  so  as  to  include  within  the 
boundary  of  organization  all  the  places  where  a 
particular  industry  is  found,  and  these  crafts  tend 
to  spread  around  an  industry  so  as  to  absorb  all 
of  its  functions.  The  craft  unions  are  organized 
to  control  individual  and  isolated  trades,  but  as  in 
the  case  of  the  Railroad  Brotherhoods  they  seem 


INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT         137 

ultimately  to  be  driven  to  cooperate  for  purposes  of 
greater  security  and  more  effectiveness  and  to  be- 
come industrial  in  fact  if  not  in  form.1  We  thus 
have,  in  every  locality  where  an  industry  is  found, 
a  grouping  of  men  and  women  whose  lives  are  spent 
about  that  particular  industry.  That  grouping  tends 
to  become  more  inclusive,  more  unified,  more  con- 
scious, more  deliberate  and  more  powerful,  as  the 
years  of  agitation,  organization  and  education  con- 
tinue. 

Every  industry  of  any  size  has  more  than  one 
locality  in  which  it  operates.  Following  the  line  of 
these,  the  workers  are  drawn  together  into  a  con- 
stantly more  effective  organization.  A  good  illus- 
tration of  such  general  tendencies  is  represented  by 
the  Railroad  Brotherhoods.  After  years  of  per- 
sistent effort  the  railroad  workers  have  succeeded 
in  building  an  organization  that  follows  the  rail- 
roads of  the  country  from  coast  to  coast,  and  into 
every  nook  and  corner  where  the  rails  find  their 
way.  There  is  not  a  car  nor  a  switch  nor  an  electri- 
cal wire  which  in  some  way  does  not  depend  directly 
upon  the  workers  who  are  organized  in  the  industry. 

It  might  be  said  that  the  workers  who  are  banded 
together  have  torn  the  rails  from  the  ground  and 
taken  possession  of  them  so  that  they  are  now  held 
fast  in  their  arms.  Without  the  consent  of  the 
organized  group,  the  rails  and  the  implements  con- 
nected with  them  would,  one  might  say,  disintegrate 

1  "The  Sixteen  Standard  Recognized  Railway  Labor 
Unions,"  now  have  a  working  agreement  which  makes  them 
into  a  single  fighting  unit. 


138  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

and  fall  to  the  ground.  This  is  a  startling  phe- 
nomenon. The  function  of  a  community,  a  function 
imperative  and  essential,  one  upon  which  its  very 
life  depends,  has  been  absorbed  by  this  organized 
group.  It  belongs  to  them  in  much  more  than  a 
metaphorical  sense.  They  own  the  industry  in  the 
sense  that  they  control  it,  and  they  fit  the  industry 
as  a  well-worn  coat  fits  a  human  form.  It  is  almost 
impossible  to  separate  the  railroad  from  the  railroad 
workers  as  an  organized  group.  Each  standing 
alone  would  be  a  monstrous  instrument  of  imbe- 
cility, because  it  would  be  useless. 

What  has  happened  is,  therefore,  that  one  of  the 
interdependent  elements  of  the  larger  community 
has  been  crystallized,  given  consciousness,  form, 
and  made  the  object  of  increasing  control  by  an 
organized  section  of  the  community.  It  means  that 
a  new  instrument  of  political  government  in  terms 
of  industrial  control  has  come  into  existence. 

This  fact  is  even  now  being  recognized.  Such 
an  innocent  performance  as  that  of  giving  the  or- 
ganized worker  three  representatives  upon  the  Rail- 
way Labor  Board  is  the  legal  recognition  of  the  fact 
that  a  new  type  of  control  has  developed  in  the 
community.  It  means  that  the  community  has  be- 
come differentiated  within  itself  functionally  and 
that  it  has  recognized  this  differentiation.  It  is  not 
as  yet  ready,  apparently,  to  make  this  recognition 
apply  to  all  industries,  but  there  is  evidence  of  an 
increasing  consciousness  that  we  have  outgrown  the 
day  when  the  chief  function  of  government  was  to 
deal  with  the  individual,  and  that  government  is 


INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT         139 

now  increasingly  concerned  with  the  group.  This 
differentiation,  which  has  now  been  recognized  in 
the  railroad  workers  and  made  so  evident  by  the 
refusal  of  the  Railroad  Labor  Board  to  deal  with 
any  workers  in  the  railroad  industry  unless  they 
were  represented  by  certain  recognized  unions  in 
the  industry,1  is  only  an  indication  that  a  new  social 
alignment  is  taking  place  and  that  it  has  already 
taken  place  in  the  railroad  industry. 

Our  political  democracy,  our  conception  of  the 
individual  as  the  unit  of  government,  is  thus  un- 
consciously slipping  from  us  into  a  recognition  of 
the  group  as  the  basic  element  of  society.  The 
community  is  adjusting  itself  to  the  fact  that 
its  larger  dealings  are  now  with  the  industrial 
group  to  a  greater  degree  than  ever  before.  What 
we  described  in  the  last  chapter  as  happening  to  the 
locality  is  evidently  taking  place  also  in  the  larger 
industrial  unit. 

This  new  structure  foreshadows,  apparently,  the 
development  of  a  new  type  of  industrial  control 
and  industrial  government.  For  the  time  being, 
anyway,  the  railway  unions  are  here  to  stay.  The 
railroad  industry  is  increasingly  theirs  in  the  sense 
that  their  power  grows  as  their  education,  experi- 
ence, unity,  and  conscousness  grow.  It  is  also 
evident  that  as  these  things  develop,  in  that  degree 
does  the  community  become  more  and  more  de- 
pendent upon  the  group  which  is  organized  around 
the  railroads.  This  group  has  sapped  one  of  the 

1  Think  of  the  fact  that  to  the  government  there  are 
"legal"  and  "outlaw"  strikes  as  denned  by  the  unions. 


140  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

functions  of  the  community  to  its  roots  and  is 
acquiring  an  undeniable  priority  of  control.  What 
is  true  of  the  railroads  tends  to  be  true  of  the  mines, 
factories,  shipyards,  bakers  and  butchers  in  the 
country.  Each  group  is  slowly,  unconsciously,  but 
persistently  and  unavoidably  increasing  the  same 
strangle  hold  upon  its  particular  industry.  Differ- 
entiation between  the  groups  in  terms  of  their  in- 
dustries is  at  hand.  A  new  political  community  is 
coming  into  being  and  the  labor  movement  is  but 
the  visible  expression  of  that  fact. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  this  growth  of  differ- 
entiation away  from  the  community  goes  hand  in 
hand  with  a  greater  integration  of  the  group  around 
the  industry.  There  seems  to  be  no  denial  of  the 
fact  that  as  unions  have  developed  around  an  in- 
dustry, either  in  craft  or  industrial  form,  they  have 
become  more  completely  unified  and  more  com- 
pletely conscious  of  the  problems  of  that  industry. 
A  kind  of  functional  citizenship,  a  kind  of  industrial 
patriotism,  a  kind  of  pride  and  interest,  a  sense  of 
power  and  with  it  a  sense  of  responsibility  has  made 
its  appearance.1 

It  is  interesting  to  analyze  the  particular  structure 
of  these  unions.  They  are  organized  in  locals,  be- 
cause every  industry  has  a  locality  and  the  locals  are 
concerned  largely  with  the  particular  problems 
which  the  industry  there  represents.  There  is  a  con- 
siderable degree  of  differentiation  in  size,  in  struc- 
ture, in  technique,  even  outlook,  as  the  industry 

1  The  charge   of   inefficiency  against   the   railroads   by   the 
railway  worker  is  an  interesting  illustration  of  this  tendency. 


INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT        141 

differs  in  locality.  Yet  all  these  locals,  like  sign- 
posts on  the  road,  follow  the  rails  or  the  mine 
around  the  country.  Each  local,  in  its  strategic 
corner,  is  absorbing  the  technique  of  the  particular 
problem  relevant  to  its  industry,  and  yet  all  are  tied 
together  by  the  steel  bond  of  the  rail.  They  are 
tied  together  because  the  industry  is  a  unit.  All 
industries  are  units  in  the  larger  sense.  The  shoe- 
making  industry  is  a  unit.  The  flour  industry  is  a 
unit.  The  cotton  industry  is  a  unit;  and  this  unit 
is  represented  by  the  national  or  international  or- 
ganization, not  fully,  but  certainly  in  an  increasingly 
complete  form. 

What  has  now  become  evident  is  that  regardless 
of  politicians  or  political  theories,  regardless  of 
what  statesmen  think  and  soldiers  say,  in  spite  of 
all  condemnation,  and  with  little  regard  to  favor- 
able comment,  a  new  social  structure  has  been  born 
and  is  growing  to  maturity.  Politicians  may  come 
and  go.  Administrative  politics  may  change; 
acquiescences  or  opposition  may  characterize  the 
present  political  state  as  it  faces  this  new  departure 
in  the  structure  of  society.  As  long  as  the  rails 
require  physical  cooperation,  just  so  long  will  men 
be  driven  irresistibly  to  give  the  physical  cooperation 
its  spiritual  content;  and  in  this  case  spiritual  con- 
tent means  control. 

What  changes  the  structure  of  the  future  political 
organization  will  embody  may  be  hard  to  predict. 
One  thing,  however,  stands  out  clearly,  and  that  is 
that  no  government  can  in  the  future  function 
without  recognizing  the  industrial  group.  The  rail- 


142  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

roads  cannot  be  run  without  the  railway  workers; 
coal  cannot  be  dug  without  the  miners;  and  elec- 
tricity cannot  be  had  without  electricians.  In  some 
way,  in  some  form,  in  terms  of  some  compromise 
greater  or  smaller,  the  political  government  must 
recognize  its  new  competitor  in  the  field.  The 
character  of  government  is  changing  as  a  result  of 
the  labor  movement.  From  being  an  aggregation 
of  individuals  expressed  in  political  unity  it  is  be- 
coming increasingly  an  aggregation  of  industrial 
groups  expressed  in  industrial  political  unity.  We 
are  therefore  face  to  face  with  one  of  the  long 
distant  results  of  the  innocent  act  which  the  indi- 
vidual worker  performs  when  he  joins  a  little  union 
in  his  locality  to  make  a  better  bargain  with  his 
employer,  to  stem  the  tide  of  insecurity — the  growth 
of  a  new  industrial  and  social  order.  This  is  one 
of  the  consequences  of  the  labor  movement.  It 
does  not  represent  its  purpose  except  in  so  far 
as  it  becomes  that  purpose  when  the  labor  movement 
achieves  consciousness  of  the  significance  of  its 
own  activity. 


CHAPTER  XII 

INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT 

III 

THE   NATIONAL  UNIT 

'T'HE  political  state  is  a  geographic  unit.  It  is 
•*•  a  separation  of  one  ethnic  group  from  another. 
Political  organization  seems  to  thrive  on  isolation 
and  by  attempting  to  achieve  self-sufficiency.  This 
is,  however,  precisely  opposite  to  the  trend  of  all 
industrial  organizations.  Industry  is  international. 
The  rails  that  cross  the  boundary  lines  of  the 
country  are  not  conscious  of  any  political  demarca- 
tion. The  railroads  of  Europe  are  a  unit  in  spite 
of  the  extreme  nationalism  by  which  that  continent 
is  characterized.  The  farmer  works  his  land  with 
very  much  the  same  tools  and  under  similar  con- 
ditions on  both  sides  of  the  national  line.  The 
chemist,  the  engineer,  the  miner — all  people  who 
work  exchange  methods,  participate  in  each  other's 
problems  and  benefit  by  each  other's  achievements. 
This  is  one  of  the  reasons  why  the  labor  move- 
ment has  been  consistently  international.  It  is  also 
one  of  the  reasons  why  industrial  enterprise,  in- 
vestment, has  been  international  in  spite  of  the 

143 


144  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

obscurantism  of  national  politics.  This  fact  has  an 
important  bearing  upon  the  development  of  the 
industrial  structure  which  the  labor  movement  is 
contributing  to  the  community.  International  in- 
dustry is  compelled  at  present  to  adjust  itself  to 
national  political  boundaries.  This  contradiction 
between  political  nationalism  and  industrial  inter- 
nationalism is  a  definite  hindrance  to  the  natural 
adjustment  of  the  labor  movement,  to  the  needs  and 
technique  of  international  industry.  This  conflict 
raises  problems  which  are  purely  political  and  un- 
related to  the  industrial  aspects  of  modern,  large- 
scale  industry.  It  makes  the  railway  problem  for 
the  railroad  workers  in  this  country  a  problem 
limited  by  politics  to  the  United  States,  when  as  a 
matter  of  fact  the  railway  industry  is  a  unit  stretch- 
ing over  the  whole  North  American  continent. 
What  is  true  of  the  railway  industry  is  true  of  the 
others,  and  it  determines  for  the  time  being  the 
limitation  within  which  the  adjustment  must  take 
place. 

This  situation  is  compelling  the  growth  of 
national  labor  movements,  although  the  character 
of  industry  is  international.  The  growth  of  large 
industrial  unions  which  are  gradually  absorbing 
power  from  the  state  is  limited  for  immediate  pur- 
poses within  national  boundaries.  Thus  it  happens 
that  while  both  industry  and  the  labor  movement 
are  international  in  character,  the  line  of  geographic 
demarcation  compels  and  confines  the  struggle  with- 
in the  national  boundaries.  It  is  not  at  all  unlikely 
that  the  future  may  see  international  combinations 


INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT        145 

of  workers  operating  their  industries  as  units.  For 
the  present,  however,  until  the  workers  are  free  to 
follow  the  needs  of  the  industry  as  circumstances 
and  not  as  politics  determine,  it  will  be  necessary  to 
adjust  an  international  technique  to  a  national 
scheme.  It  is  apparent,  therefore,  that  the  struggle 
of  the  labor  movement  is  under  existing  conditions, 
a  national  struggle  in  form  if  not  in  fact,  and  we 
must  examine  the  structure  which  the  labor  move- 
ment is  developing  to  achieve  national  self-deter- 
mination. This  structure  is  clearly  indicated  by  the 
present  form  of  the  labor  movement. 

It  has  been  pointed  out  already  that  the  District 
Council  gradually  absorbs  the  power  in  a  locality  as 
the  community  becomes  differentiated  in  terms  of 
its  industrial  groups.  In  the  last  chapter  it  was 
also  indicated  that  what  takes  place  locally  repeats 
itself  nationally  in  the  industry.  The  railway 
workers,  the  miners,  the  electricians,  develop  a 
technique,  a  form  of  control  which  embodies  within 
itself  all  the  important  aspects  of  particular  indus- 
tries regardless  of  their  distribution  and  locality. 
The  labor  organizations  which  embody  this  control 
tend  to  unite  these  industries  in  a  national  congress. 

The  British  Trade  Union  Congress  contains 
within  itself  the  representation,  the  control,  the  affi- 
liation and  the  loyalty  of  all  the  British  workers  who 
are  organized.  In  this  congress  nearly  every  indus- 
try and  profession  in  the  country  which  has  achieved 
some  kind  of  organization  is  represented;  such  as 
the  railway  workers,  the  miners,  the  seamen,  the 
teachers,  the  street  cleaners,  the  civil  service  em- 


146  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

ployees,  the  building  trades,  the  needle  trades,  and 
many  others.  This  congress  is  the  industrial  gov- 
ernment of  organized  labor.  With  the  growth  of 
the  labor  movement  this  congress  becomes  more  re- 
presentative of  the  English  people. 

The  convention  of  the  American  Federation  of 
Labor  in  this  country  approximates  this  industrial 
congress.  The  next  convention  of  the  American 
Federation  of  Labor  will  represent  some  six  million 
people.  Many  of  the  important  functions  of  the 
community  will  be  reflected  in  the  delegates  at  that 
convention.  It  is  true  that  these  delegates  will  re- 
present trade  unions  rather  than  industries.  It  is 
also  true  that  the  representation  as  chosen  at  present 
is  not  entirely  democratic.  Moreover,  a  large 
number  of  organized  industries  will  not  be  fully 
represented.  This  convention  is,  however,  to  be 
considered  only  as  an  indication  of  the  structural 
growth  of  the  labor  movement. 

The  trade  unions  are  gradually  making  place  for 
industrial  organization.  It  is  a  fact  that  one  of 
the  largest  unions  in  the  American  Federation  of 
Labor  is  industrial  —  the  United  Mine  Workers 
of  America.  However,  the  American  Federation  of 
Labor,  while  incomplete  as  a  full  representation  of 
even  the  organized  workers,  is  yet  a  body  that  has 
already  an  extraordinary  amount  of  power  vested 
in  it.  It  could  in  a  time  of  crisis  become  a  deter- 
mining factor  in  the  community.  It  could  bring 
to  a  standstill  some  of  the  most  important  industrial 
functions  of  the  United  States.  This  workers' 
organization,  however,  is  only  a  harbinger,  a  fore- 


INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT         147 

shadowing,  a  general  outline  of  the  greater  possi- 
ble growth  of  the  workers'  movement.  A  tend- 
ency towards  fuller  industrial  unity  is  indicated 
by  the  prospective  alignment  of  the  Railroad 
Brotherhoods  with  the  American  Federation  of 
Labor. 

If  we  assume  that  within  years  this  industrial 
convention  will  include  not  only  the  present  re- 
presentatives of  the  trades  already  organized  but 
also  the  many  workers  who  will  probably  have 
joined  the  ranks  of  organized  labor  by  that  time, 
then  it  will  be  a  formidable  body  indeed. 

We  are  fairly  safe  in  assuming  the  steady  growth 
of  the  labor  movement.  At  least  there  seems  to  be 
no  immediate  reason  to  suppose,  if  we  are  to  judge 
by  the  recent  history  of  labor  and  the  current 
tendencies  in  other  countries  in  the  direction  of 
organization,  that  the  labor  movement  will  not  con- 
tinue to  gain  members.1  In  fact,  growth  for  the 
time  being  seems  inevitable.  People  join  the  labor 
movement  to  secure  protection  and  one  might  say 
to  acquire  dignity,  but  as  more  people  join  it  the 
more  powerful  it  becomes,  the  greater  the  protec- 
tion and  the  more  social  standing  do  its  members 
acquire. 

We  may  also  safely  assume  that  to  this  growth 

1  Trade  Union  membership  in  20  of  the  more  industrial 
countries  according  to  International  Labor  office  at  Geneva 
has  increased  from  10,836,000  in  1910  to  32,680,000  in  1919. 
In  England  from  2,400,000  in  1910  to  8,024,000  in  1919.  For 
the  same  period  the  increase  in  the  United  States  has  been 
from  2,100,000  to  5,607,000;  Germany  from  2,960,000 
to  9,000,000;  France  977,000  to  2,500,000,  etc. 


148  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

will  have  been  added  the  present  Railroad  Brother- 
hoods, the  independent  unions  in  the  clothing  trades, 
and  many  other  industrial  organizations.  It  is  not 
even  impossible  that  the  Industrial  Workers  of  the 
World  will  have  found  themselves  drawn  into  a 
single  organization  of  all  the  workers.  It  must 
never  be  forgotten  that  the  labor  movement  is  un- 
dergoing structural  change,  and  that  the  change  is 
in  the  direction  of  one  big  unit.  This  basis, 
which  seems  to  be  fairly  possible  as  a  back- 
ground for  industrial  unity,  would  give  the  con- 
vention of  the  organized  workers  of  America  an 
exceedingly  important  place  in  American  political 
life. 

What  it  would  mean  is  not  difficult  to  visualize. 
In  this  yearly  gathering  of  men  would  be  found  an 
ever  increasing  representation  of  the  American 
people.  Each  delegate  would  represent  directly  a 
body  of  integrated,  conscious,  unified  and  differ- 
entiated men  and  women  centered  around  some  or- 
ganic function  of  the  community.  A  baker  would 
represent  the  bakers.  A  miner,  the  miners;  a  rail- 
way man,  the  railway  men.  This  is  of  course  ac- 
tually the  case  at  present  in  so  far  as  the  industrial 
activity  of  the  community  is  represented.  It  has 
men  of  its  own  industry  as  spokesmen.  In  a  more 
comprehensive  organization  all  the  important  in- 
dustrial functions  of  the  community  would  be 
included.  What  a  power  would  be  concentrated 
with  this  group,  which  would  be  legislative,  judicial 
and  executive!  It  would  concentrate  within  itself 
the  knowledge,  the  idealism,  the  basic  needs  and 


INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT         149 

all  the  important  contacts  of  the  working  com- 
munity— and  the  machine  is  rapidly  making  most 
of  our  people  into  a  typically  wage- working  com- 
munity. 

This  convention  to-day  represents  a  new  type  of 
loyalty  as  well  as  a  new  type  of  control.  It  has 
become  evident  that  labor  unions  have  a  dominion 
over  the  imagination  and  affection  of  the  workers 
which  is  not  rivaled  even  by  our  political  state.  We 
saw  recently  that  the  coal  miners  considered 
their  industrial  affiliation  of  greater  importance  than 
their  political  one  and  refused  to  go  back  to  work 
when  ordered  to  do  so  by  the  political  state.  This 
is  but  one  instance  of  the  general  fact.  The  con- 
vention, therefore,  would  enjoy  actual  representa- 
tion of  the  industrial  functions  of  the  community 
and  with  it  the  apparent  industrial  and  political 
backing  of  those  represented. 

There  are  other  elements  in  this  working-class 
convention  which  are  worthy  of  notice.  The  first 
is  that  if  we  assume  a  slight  change  in  the  choice 
of  delegates,  these  men  and  women  would  actually 
represent  a  group  on  a  democratic  basis.  They 
would  be  chosen  directly  by  a  differentiated  indus- 
trial union  possessing  fairly  common  interests, 
common  knowledge,  common  problems,  and  a  com- 
mon purpose.  The  miners  would  represent  the 
mines  and  the  mine  workers  as  no  Congressman 
represents  his  constituency,  because  few  Congress- 
men indeed  can  ever  achieve  that  common  experi- 
ence and  outlook  which  is  characteristic  of  a 
delegate  for  an  industrial  group  organized  around 


150  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

an  industrial  function  for  a  length  of  time  sufficient 
to  give  it  a  sense  of  its  own  importance.  These 
men  would  be  political-industrial  representatives, 
but  even  more  than  that,  they  would  represent  their 
groups  psychologically  because  they  would  be  carved 
from  the  same  stone,  moulded  in  the  same  crucible, 
and  strengthened  with  the  same  purpose  as  the 
group  which  elected  them.  This  is  ideal.  The 
ideal  is  unattainable,  but  how  much  nearer  the  ideal 
we  should  be  as  far  as  representation  is  concerned 
than  can  possibly  be  the  case  when  we  are  re- 
presented by  politicians  who  succeed  only  in  reflect- 
ing the  needs  of  the  political  machine  which  elected 
them.  The  politician  succeeds  in  representing  the 
political  machine  because  that  has  a  common  pur- 
pose, but  where  is  the  common  purpose  of  the 
political  community  which  he  can  represent?  The 
industrial  community  exists  as  a  definitely  in- 
tegrated whole  composed  of  differentiated  groups 
each  conscious  of  its  needs  and  purposes. 

Another  fact  in  this  working-class  congress  is 
connected  with  the  individual  representative.  Every 
delegate  will  be  a  man  who  has  risen  from  the  ranks. 
He  will  have  entered  his  industry  as  an  apprentice 
in  some  form.  He  will  have  worked  at  his  particular 
task,  acquiring  knowedge  and  developing  that  sense 
of  group  responsibility  and  group  interest  which 
will  have  made  it  possible  for  him  to  rise  to  a 
position  of  importance. 

These  delegates  will  be  the  pick  of  the  industrial 
group.  They  will  be  the  men  and  women  who  will 
have  shown  themselves  to  have  served  their  group 


INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT         151 

loyally,  consistently  and  honorably.  The  labor  group 
is  inclined  to  be  hard-headed,  suspicious  and  severe 
in  its  judgments  of  the  people  who  strive  for  lead- 
ership in  it.  Men  must  be  tested  and  found  to  be 
true  and  capable  before  positions  of  responsibility 
are  entrusted  to  them.  This  means  that  every  re- 
presentative at  the  labor  congress  would  be  a  man 
who  had  shown  not  only  social-mindedness,  the 
power  to  hold  the  confidence  of  other  men  on  the 
basis  of  service  to  them,  but  also  knowledge  of  the 
actual  problems  upon  which  they  are  to  act.  The 
miners  will  know  the  mines;  the  cotton  industry 
will  be  represented  by  men  who  have  had  many 
years  of  contact  with  it;  the  teachers  will  have 
educators  trained  in  the  service  and  saturated  with 
its  difficulties.  These  men  will  not  only  actually 
represent  groups  but  they  will  also  reflect  the  in- 
formation, the  technique,  the  needs  and  the  pos- 
sibilities of  their  separate  services.  In  comparison 
with  this  kind  of  representative  group  what  can  be 
said  in  favor  of  the  average  congressman  or 
legislator  in  our  present  political  structure?  The 
delegates  would  approximate  a  consciousness  of  the 
community's  problems  which  cannot  be  achieved  by 
political  representation. 

This  is,  of  course,  only  a  description  of  a  group 
larger  than  the  one  which  already  represents  the 
workers  in  their  yearly  conventions.  It  is  not  a 
hypothesis.  It  is  a  statement  of  a  fact  in  a  some- 
what larger  setting  than  it  has  at  present.  From 
the  point  of  view  of  political  government,  the  group- 
ing of  the  important  functions  of  the  community 


152  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

within  a  concentrated  form  represented  by  a  con- 
vention means  that  a  new  governmental  structure 
is  growing  up.  It  is  obvious  that  no  political  gov- 
ernment could  carry  on  industry  without  some  com- 
promise with  this  group.  It  must  be  remem- 
bered that  the  group  represents  railways,  mines, 
water  supply,  bread — all  the  basic  needs  of  the  com- 
munity; that  its  power  cannot  be  taken  away  by  a 
political  coup  d'etat.  It  is  organic.  Its  function 
and  its  power  are  one  and  the  same  thing,  and  can- 
not be  separated.  Whatever  the  structure  of  future 
political  organization  may  be,  this  industrial 
grouping  is  bound  to  achieve  an  ever  more  im- 
portant place  within  the  controlling  powers  of  the 
community.  It  may  be  possible  that  all  political 
power  will  be  transferred  to  it.  It  is  a  certainty 
that  no  political  power  could  continue  without  its 
consent. 

This  striking  fact  was  made  evident  very  recently 
in  Europe.  The  German  revolution  was  saved  by 
the  refusal  of  the  labor  unions  to  cooperate  with  the 
reactionary  government  brought  in  by  Kapp.  It 
became  vividly  manifest  that  the  labor  unions,  if 
they  acted  in  concert,  were  the  pivot  of  the  social- 
political  structure.  The  other  manifestaton  of  this 
power  showed  itself  in  Denmark  when  a  general 
strike  of  the  workers  compelled  the  King  to  reverse 
his  action  on  an  important  matter  of  state  and  form 
a  government  which  was  acceptable  to  the  workers. 
It  must  be  remembered  that  neither  in  Germany 
nor  in  Denmark  have  the  workers  as  yet  achieved 
that  fullness  of  organization,  that  completeness  of 


INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT         153 

control,  that  concentrated  unity  which  the  present 
growth  seems  to  indicate  will  probably  be  theirs  in 
the  no  distant  future.  1 

We  have  thus  the  development  of  a  new  power  of 
government,  a  government  controlled  in  terms  of  in- 
dustrial groups  in  which  industrial  representation  is 
being  substituted  for  political  representation;  while 
the  future  no  doubt  embodies  many  changes,  this  is 
one  that  for  the  time  being  seems  inevitable. 

Industrial  organization  is  becoming  a  pivot  a- 
round  which  political  control  can  be  centered.  Polit- 
ical theorists  may  speculate  upon  the  place  of  geo- 
graphic representation  in  the  future  governmental 
structure,  but  the  very  fact  that  the  question  is  being 
raised  indicates  some  doubt  about  that  place.  There 
is  little  question  as  to  whether  industrial  representa- 
tion shall  remain.  That  is  taken  for  granted.  Polit- 
ical representation  in  terms  of  the  geographical  unit 
is  on  the  defensive,  and  there  is  considerable  doubt 
whether  it  will  be  able  to  maintain  any  foothold  at 
all  in  the  light  of  the  growing  importance 
of  industrial  representation  as  indicated  in  the 

1  New  York  Times,  Copenhagen,  April  6,  1920.  "A  def- 
inite agreement  to  call  off  the  general  strike  which  resulted 
in  forcing  King  Christian  to  dismiss  the  Liebe  Cabinet  has 
been  reached  by  employers  and  workmen  here. 

"The  result  of  this  strike  is  the  second  remarkable  illus- 
tration within  a  few  weeks  of  the  entirely  novel  use  of  the 
strike  weapon,  which  has  hitherto  been  employed  almost  ex- 
clusively in  industrial  disputes.  It  has  been  employed  with 
surprising  effect  in  two  important  constitutional  crises.  The 
first  was  in  Germany,  where  the  reactionary  Government  set 
up  by  Dr.  Wolfgang  Kapp  was  forced  to  relinquish  power  at 
the  end  of  five  days.  The  second  was  in  this  country,  where 
it  was  employed  with  almost  as  quick  success." 


154  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

growth  of  the  labor  movement.  This  is  one  of  the 
great  consequences  of  the  original  act  of  the  isolated 
worker  who  joins  a  union  because  he  wants  a  little 
more  security  in  the  world.  Without  knowing  it 
and  without  planning  it,  he  is  the  great  revolutionist 
of  the  age. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

WORK  AND  WAGES 

IF  the  general  point  of  view  of  this  book,  that  the 
labor  movement  represents  the  most  vital  contri- 
bution that  is  being  made  to  social  change  and  recon- 
struction, is  correct,  then  all  of  the  more  important 
practices  of  the  labor  movement  are  of  signifi- 
cance as  a  possible  indication  of  future  method 
in  social  relations.  The  arrangements  of  the  future 
are  likely  to  be  vitally  influenced  by  the  contribu- 
tions to  social  procedure  which  will  be  carried  over 
with  the  transition  from  competitive  to  cooperative 
industry  implied  in  the  labor  movement. 

While  it  would  be  too  much  to  suggest  that  all  of 
the  practices  of  the  labor  movement  are  important 
as  possible  contributions  to  future  method,  still  it  is 
desirable  to  see  clearly  that  the  transition  is  bound 
to  carry  over  with  it  a  great  deal  that  is  perma- 
nent and  basic  in  labor  structure.  From  this  point 
of  view  the  apparent  tendency  of  the  labor  move- 
ment to  equalize  income  is  highly  significant,  for 
there  are  few  things  so  deeply  ingrained  as  its  policy 
of  remuneration  and  its  ethics  of  income. 

This  may  seem  a  startling  statement.  There  is, 
155 


156  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

however,  an  unmistakable  tendency  in  the  labor 
movement  to  narrow  the  distinction  between 
incomes  and  the  bases  upon  which  incomes 
are  computed.  There  are  certain  very  definite 
things  which  the  labor  movement  has  done,  and  cer- 
tain definite  principles  which  it  has  avowed,  in  this 
important  direction. 

The  first  of  these  is  the  insistence  upon  a  mini- 
mum living  wage.  This  is  a  revolutionary  de- 
mand from  the  point  of  view  of  the  older  economics 
and  politics.  It  is  revolutionary  because  it  violates 
the  first  principle  of  competitive  economics  upon 
which  the  present  system  is  based.  The  present 
system  is  assumed  to  take  competition  between  man 
and  man  as  the  basis  of  its  political  and  economic 
policy.  The  idea  of  the  survival  of  the  fittest  be- 
comes increasingly  difficult  and  the  survival  of  the 
"unfit"  increasingly  easier  when  a  minimum  stand- 
ard of  living  for  all  men  is  assumed.  What  is  of 
equal  importance,  however,  is  that  the  minimum 
wage  is  the  first  step  in  the  direction  of  establishing 
the  equality  of  men  in  an  economic  sense.  From 
this  point  of  view,  all  men  have  an  equal  right  to 
survive  economically,  for  the  minimum  wage  is 
really  only  the  statement  in  another  form  that  all 
men  have  an  equal  right  to  common  standards  of 
livelihood.  Here  we  have  the  first  rung  in  the  lad- 
der leading  in  the  direction  of  equality  of  income. 
The  first  step  establishes  the  level  below  which  in- 
come cannot  fall,  and  so  limits  the  difference  be- 
tween man  and  man  that  much.  All  men  have  an 
equal  minimum,  an  equal  right  to  exist. 


WORK  AND  WAGES  157 

The  second  great  step  is  the  general  acceptance 
of  a  maximum  income.  This  maximum,  like  the 
minimum,  varies  with  time  and  place,  condition 
and  group,  but  generally  speaking,  all  organized 
labor,  even  the  most  conservative,  has  accepted  in 
principle  and  advocated  in  fact  the  limitation  of  in- 
come for  all  classes  in  the  community.  This  limi- 
tation may  vary  from  a  million  to  fifty  thou- 
sand dollars  or  even  less,  but  there  is  a  general 
acceptance  of  the  principle.  In  so  far  as  labor 
has  the  power,  it  has  insisted  upon  this  demand. 
The  advocacy  of  income  taxes,  inheritance  taxes, 
profits  taxes,  are  all  of  the  same  thread.  The 
attempt  is  to  set  a  practicable  limit  to  maximum 
income.  We  thus  have  the  two  outlines  of  the 
tendency  to  reduce  the  economic  difference  between 
men. 

While  the  minimum  and  maximum  policy  has  been 
accepted  in  principle  and  applied  in  fact,  in  so  far 
as  the  labor  movement  has  been  able  to  influence 
the  political  practices  of  the  community  it  has  at- 
tempted with  more  success  this  general  practice 
in  its  own  organization.  The  enforcement  of  a 
minimum  wage  for  all  organized  workers  is  an  in- 
sistent purpose  of  the  labor  union.  This  minimum, 
which  is  described  as  a  fair  day's  wage,  is  but  an 
attempt  to  raise  the  standard  of  living — a  standard 
which  as  yet  has  not  been  expressed  in  terms  of 
finality  but  which  may  not  fall  below  its  present 
position.  The  future  is  indefinite  beyond  the  ex- 
pressed hope  that  the  margin  of  increase  will  rise 
rapidly.  To  this  basic  effort  in  organized  labor  is  to 


158  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

be  added  a  number  of  other  activities,  each  tending 
in  the  same  direction. 

As  far  as  possible  the  labor  movement  has  en- 
forced an  equal  length  for  the  day's  labor.  The 
eight  hour  day  is  a  practical  fact  in  the  lives  of  the 
greater  portion  of  well-organized  trades.  This 
standardization  of  the  day's  work  in  point  of  time 
is  approximated  and  tends  to  become  a  fact  of  ever 
widening  influence  in  the  lives  of  thousands  of 
others  who  are  not  organized.  We  thus  have  a 
practical  equalization  of  one  of  the  bases  upon  which 
the  day's  pay  and  the  weekly  income  are  computed. 
The  hours  of  labor  of  all  men  are  thus  equalized,  or 
tend  to  be,  and  with  that  goes  a  tendency  to  limit 
the  wage,  as  the  wage  may  be  and  in  many  cases  is 
computed  by  the  hour.  When  men  work  an  equal 
number  of  hours  they  cannot,  generally  speaking, 
vary  in  income  as  much  as  if  they  worked  different 
hours.  At  least  one  element  in  the  variation  of  in- 
come tends  to  disappear.  In  addition  to  the  limita- 
tion of  the  hours  of  the  day,  there  is  a  limitation  of 
the  hours  of  the  week  which  may  be  employed  in 
gainful  labor.  The  general  aim  is  48  hours  per 
week,  and  in  some  industries  it  has  shifted  to  44 
and  even  to  40  hours  as  the  maximum ;  this  tendency 
to  approximate  a  common  level  is  apparently  irre- 
sistible. 

The  point  of  interest  next  to  that  of  the  hours  of 
labor  that  a  man  may  work  is  the  amount  of  work 
a  man  may  do  during  those  hours.  Limitation  has 
become  a  general  policy  for  the  worker.  In  piece 
work,  as  well  as  in  day  work,  there  is  a  generally 


WORK  AND  WAGES  159 

accepted  understanding  among  the  workers  as  to 
what  constitutes  a  fair  day's  work,  and  few  organ- 
ized workers  go  outside  of  the  general  rule  in  their 
working  hours  or  in  their  output.  I  am  speaking 
of  well  organized  trades,  the  others  always  tend  to 
approximate  them.  I  am  not  at  present  concerned 
with  the  morals  of  this  fact,  nor  am  I  here  con- 
cerned with  explaining  that  attempt  to  control  and 
regulate  the  work  in  hand  which  is  so  important  a 
part  of  the  labor  movement.  This  was  developed 
in  the  third  chapter.  What  is  important  to  note  is 
that  the  amount  a  man  may  do  is  limited  by  his 
union  organization,  and  that  this  limitation  tends  to 
equalize  income  as  between  man  and  man,  for  it 
limits  and  controls  one  of  the  causes  for  difference 
in  pay — productivity. 

The  whole  question  of  union  responsibility  was 
recently  given  new  and  significant  implication  by  the 
adoption  of  working  class  production  standards  by 
the  Amalgamated  Clothing  Workers  at  their  con- 
vention in  Boston.  They  adopted,  after  a  great 
deal  of  discussion,  the  principle  that  their  union 
must  work  out  standards  of  production  and  en- 
force them.  It  must,  however,  be  noted  that  these 
standards  are  not  competitive  but  cooperative. 
They  are  the  determination  of  the  group  as  to  what 
the  individual  can  and  ought  to  be  expected  to  do. 

In  the  discussion  the  President  sail:  "We  can- 
not evade  this  question  of  production.  The  Amal- 
gamated cannot  accept  the  ordinary  rule  of  com- 
merce, the  principle  of  the  business  man,  which  is 
to  give  as  little  as  possible  and  to  take  as  much  as 


160  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

possible.  We  must  take  a  different  attitude  and 
accept  responsibility  for  production.  We  cannot 
have  sabotage  by  withholding  production;  we  can- 
not have  loafing;  we  must  have  production  and  we 
must  recognize  our  responsibility." 

This  change  in  attitude  represents  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  evidences  of  the  constructive  and 
creative  character  of  the  labor  movement  which 
we  have  at  hand.  It  must  be  fully  understood,  how- 
ever, that  the  change  in  attitude  toward  work 
represented  here  does  not  discount  the  cooperative 
character  of  the  labor  movement,  nor  deny  its  de- 
fensive and  protective  nature.  The  simple  fact  is 
that  this  remarkable  union  has  achieved  such  a  de- 
gree of  control  and  solidarity  that  it  can  best  main- 
tain and  increase  its  powers  of  defense  and  protec- 
tion, of  service  and  cooperative  effort,  by  a  new 
emphasis  towards  the  question  of  work.  The  work 
is  still  subject  to  rules  and  regulations  which  meet 
the  needs  and  interests  of  the  workers.  It  has  sim- 
ply ceased  to  be  negative,  has  assumed  the  character 
of  positive  contribution,  of  deliberate  service  to  the 
community. 

In  addition  to  the  tendencies  already  enumerated 
there  is  the  important  fact  that  all  organized  work- 
ers, regardless  of  their  particular  trade,  approxi- 
mate each  other  in  wages.  l  There  are,  of  course, 

1  An  interesting  illustration  is  to  be  found  in  the  Railway 
Shop  crafts.  The  Coremen,  Boilermakers,  Electricians,  Sheet 
Metal  Workers,  Blacksmiths,  Signalmen,  all  of  whom  used 
to  get  different  wages,  now  all  get  the  same  basic  wage — 
if  they  are  classed  as  craftsmen.  With  this  there  is  an 
equalized  period  of  apprenticeship. 


WORK  AND  WAGES  161 

differences  dating  from  traditional  wage  adjust- 
ments, differences  in  standards  of  living,  differences 
in  personnel.  These  differences  tend  constantly  to 
be  narrowed.  In  almost  every  wage  dispute  the 
raise  demanded  for  the  lower  paid  worker  is  greater 
in  proportion  than  that  demanded  for  the  skilled  and 
higher  paid  worker.  Any  union  where  a  number 
of  trades  meet  on  a  common  level,  will,  when  a  wage 
dispute  is  on,  make  a  demand  for  a  higher  percent- 
age of  increase  for  the  lowest  paid  trade.  This  fact 
and  the  fact  that  the  lowest  paid  workers  are  con- 
stantly demanding  higher  wages,  organizing  and  in- 
creasing their  power,  as  well  as  limiting  both  the 
hours  of  labor  and  the  output,  tend  to  bring  their 
earnings  nearer  to  those  of  the  skilled  workers.1 

1  That  standardization  of  wages  is  characteristic  of  the 
labor  movement  is  interestingly  illustrated  by  two  disputes 
now  going  on  in  different  parts  of  the  world.  In  the  United 
States  the  struggle  over  the  National  agreement  on  the  Rail- 
ways is  to  a  large  extent  a  struggle  about  the  standardization 
of  wages.  In  England  the  same  issue  is  in  the  forefront  of 
the  dispute  about  the  miner's  wages.  This  is  made  clear  by 
the  following  quotation  from  the  manifesto  issued  by  the 
Tripple  Alliance. 

"For  generations  the  trade  union  movement  has  set  the 
establishment  of  national  wage  agreements  in  the  forefront 
of  its  program.  The  miners,  railway  men  and  transport 
workers,  after  a  prolonged  effort  have  secured  them.  Now 
the  mine  owners  have  flung  that  principle  to  one  side.  The 
condition  which  it  is  sought  to-day  to  impose  on  the  miners 
will,  unless  resisted,  be  imposed  to-morrow  on  other  classes 
of  workers,  the  standardisation  of  wages  among  all  grades 
of  railway  labor  is  in  danger.  The  dockers  minimum  of  16 
shillings  whether  in  Hull  or  Liverpool  or  any  other  port  and 
the  uniform  rates  of  seamen  will  be  insecure  if  the  miners  are 
defeated." 


162  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

The  demand  by  the  labor  movement  for  equal  pay 
for  equal  work  is  another  illustration  of  this  tenden- 
cy. It  is  a  tendency  to  standardize  the  income  and  the 
basis  of  remuneration  for  all  participants  in  the  pro- 
ductive effort  of  the  community.  This  is  of  prac- 
tical importance  when  applied  to  the  labor  of  women, 
for  the  woman  worker  has  generally  been  the  lowest 
paid  and  least  protected  of  all  other  workers.  She 
has  generally  been  the  last  to  organize  and  up  to  date 
she  has,  as  a  general  rule,  lacked  the  skill  which 
makes  organization  for  the  male  worker  so 
much  easier.  With  the  equalization  of  the 
wage  for  women,  we  have  (where  this  has  be- 
come a  fact  as  with  the  women  teachers  in  the 
New  York  public  schools  the  raising  of  the  income 
of  a  very  large  part  of  the  community  to  that  of  the 
rest  of  it — a  striking  illustration  of  the  tendency 
toward  an  equal  wage. 

One  of  the  consequences  of  this  tendency  is  illus- 
trated in  the  striking  equalization  of  the  income  of 
the  workers  with  that  of  professionals.  Teachers 
in  public  schools,  professors  in  colleges,  writers  on 
newspapers,  civil  service  employees,  engineers, 
draftsmen  and  innumerable  other  skilled  and  pro- 
fessional workers  who  until  recently  were  considered 
as  outside  the  working-class  group  now  find  them- 
selves within  it  in  terms  of  income.  Many  skilled 
workers  earn  more  than  professional  people.  The 
privilege  and  influence  that  come  from  organization 
are  enjoyed  more  to-day  by  organized  labor  than  by 
the  professional  group,  with  the  result  that  the  pro- 
fessional group  is  finding  itself  compelled  to  join  the 


WORK  AND  WAGES  163 

organized  labor  movement.  1  This  is  a  striking 
illustration  of  the  tendency  towards  equality  of  in- 
come in  the  community. 

The  other  positive  contribution  in  the  direction  of 
equality  between  the  professional  and  the  worker  is 
the  approximation  of  the  hours  of  labor  in  both 
groups.  The  day  when  the  professional  could  en- 
joy his  half -day  off  on  Saturday  while  the  manual 
worker  continued  at  his  task,  is  practically  gone. 
The  manual  worker  and  skilled  tradesman,  the  pro- 
fessional, teacher  or  chemist,  are  to-day  more  than 
ever  on  a  common  level  on  the  basis  of  income, 
hours  of  labor,  standard  of  living  and  social  stand- 
ing in  the  community. 

To  those  already  enumerated  must  be  added 
other  influences.  The  lower  income  of  the  laborer 
and  the  great  insecurity  of  his  position  have,  up  to 
date,  made  him  a  prey  to  accidents  which  reduced 
his  existence  below  the  level  of  a  decent  standard  of 
living,  and  in  so  doing  have  increased  the  distance 
between  the  well-paid,  comparatively  secure  mem- 
bers of  the  community  and  the  insecure  members 
by  forcing  the  manual  worker  to  a  lower  level  of 
existence. 

Sickness,  accidents,  lack  of  employment  and  other 
evils  centering  about  the  life  of  workers  made  con- 
stant inroads  both  on  the  vitality  and  the  income  of 
the  manual  laborer  and  left  him  constantly  on  a 
lower  level  of  income  and  security.  The  labor 
'The  significance  of  the  organization  of  such  professional 
function  as  Teachers,  Actors,  Engineers,  Yard  Masters,  Train 
Dispatchers,  Railroad-Traveling  Auditors  cannot  be  over 
estimated. 


164  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

movement,  however,  both  through  its  internal  or- 
ganization and  through  its  influence  upon  the  state, 
has  established  many  bulwarks  against  complete  ex- 
haustion and  wrecking  of  workers'  lives.  Thus  many 
trade  unions  have  sickness  insurance,  out-of-work 
payments,  and  other  benefits.  While  their  influence 
has  been  very  largely  contributory  to  the  adoption  of 
state  out-of-work  insurance,  accident  insurance, 
old  age  pensions,  and  in  some  cases  of  maternity  in- 
surance as  well,  the  importance  of  these  bulwarks,  in 
the  worker's  own  world  can  hardly  be  overestimated. 
What  I  am  concerned  with  at  present  is  their  limita- 
tions upon  the  reduction  of  the  minimum  of  subsist- 
ence. They  tend  to  limit  the  difference  between 
man  and  man  economically,  and  by  doing  so  tend  to 
keep  people  on  a  greater  equality  of  income,  of 
social  position  and  of  standard  of  living.  We  thus 
have  the  following  tendencies,  well  marked  in  the 
labor  movement,  all  leading  in  the  direction  of 
equality  of  income : 

1.  Minimum  wage  for  all  workers. 

2.  Maximum  income — taxation  of  wealth  in 

various  ways. 

3.  Limitation  of  the  hours  of  labor — reducing 

thus  the  variant  for  computing  wages. 

4.  Standardization  of  output — another  reduc- 

tion of  the  variant  for  computing  wages. 

5.  Approximation  of  equal  wages  for  all  or- 

ganized groups  by  generally  raising  the 
proportion  of  the  lowest  paid  workers  in  a 
wage  dispute. 


WORK  AND  WAGES  165 

6.  Equal  pay  for  equal  work  for  women. 

7.  Approximation  of  the  manual  to  the  profes- 

sional worker  in  income  and  in  hours  of 
labor  as  well  as  in  power  and  social  posi- 
tion and  standard  of  life. 

8.  Sickness  insurance. 

9.  Unemployment  insurance. 

10.  Accident  insurance. 

1 1 .  Old  age  pensions. 

12.  Maternity  and  widow  compensation. 

13.  The  giving  of  a  labor  status  to  professionals 

through  organization. 

14.  Standardization  of  wages  for  large  groups 

— miners,  dockers,  etc. 

To  all  of  these  tendencies,  which  are  subject  to 
enumeration  and  description,  there  must  be  added 
others  more  subtle,  more  organically  bound  up  with 
the  whole  process  of  the  world  in  which  we  live.  The 
tendency  towards  greater  equality  of  income  which 
the  labor  movement  is  evidencing  is  stimulated  by  a 
remarkable  development  in  the  comparatively  equal 
educational  background  of  the  whole  community. 
Public  schools,  high  schools,  colleges,  lecture  plat- 
forms, moving  pictures,  newspapers,  magazines,  are 
constantly  supplying  to  the  mass  of  men  and  women 
in  the  community  a  greater  imaginative  equality  than 
they  ever  had  before.  The  differentiation  of  the 
community  into  groups,  the  development  of 
industrial  power  by  small  groups  and  their  abil- 
ity to  inconvenience  the  community  also  tend  to 
develop  a  sense  of  importance  and  equality  which 


166  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

they   did   not  possess    in   their   isolated    individual 
setting. 

The  greater  opportunity  to  travel,  the  street  car, 
the  Ford  automobile,  the  commutation  ticket,  are 
also  important  influences  in  the  breaking  up  of  the 
isolated  provincialism  of  the  individual  which 
tended  to  make  income  a  divinely  arranged  affair. 
The  political  democracy,  with  its  appeal  to  the  indi- 
vidual voter  and  its  insistence  that  the  people  are  the 
root  of  political  power,  make  the  demand  for  a 
greater  equality  of  income  inevitable  since  it  is  only 
a  demand  that  the  spiritual  approximation  of  the 
community  be  substantiated  by  an  economic  one. 
The  significance  of  the  labor  movement  lies  in  the 
fact  that  it  provides  the  machinery  for  the  fulfill- 
ment of  the  growing  demand  by  the  working  class 
of  the  community  for  equality. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  CONSERVATIVE  FUNCTION  OF  THE  LABOR 
MOVEMENT 

I T  is  the  ideal  aim  of  the  labor  movement  to 
*  abolish  revolutions.  It  aims  to  eliminate  the  cost 
of  human  sacrifice  due  to  social  change  by  making 
change  a  pragmatic  and  deliberate  thing. 

The  current  as  well  as  the  age-long  method  of 
political  and  economic  change  is  violence  and  human 
sacrifice.  Every  important  change  in  our  political 
status,  in  economic  relationships,  has  largely  been 
achieved  by  the  crude  method  of  physical  struggle 
and  suffering.  Not  only  is  this  true  of  such  all  in- 
clusive upheavals  as  the  French  Revolution  and  the 
present  Russian  Revolution,  but  it  is  true  of  other 
less  startling  changes  such  as  the  struggle  for  the 
eight-hour  day.  How  many  strikes,  battles  with  the 
police,  evictions,  jailings,  hangings,  how  much 
misery  and  death  have  been  exacted  by  the  eight- 
hour  movement!  The  fact  that  we  have  paid  in 
human  life  and  suffering  for  almost  every  change 
towards  smoother  and  more  pleasant  relations  gives 
the  labor  movement  a  role  of  extraordinary  signifi- 
cance and  force  if  it  really  has  elements  which  may 
ultimately  eliminate  this  crude  process  of  social  ad- 
justment. 

167 


168  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

The  heavy  cost  that  we  have  paid  for  social 
change  is  due  not  to  the  essence  of  change  as  such. 
The  cost  of  life  and  the  demand  for  human  sacrifice 
are  bound  up  intimately  with  the  situation  within 
which  change  takes  place.  If  the  proposed  read- 
justment of  the  suggested  new  methods  and  proced- 
ure is  one  that  arouses  class  interests,  we  have  the 
conditions  that  make  for  struggles,  revolutions  and 
the  payment  in  human  life  for  change.  This  is  a 
very  characteristic  fact.  No  revolutions  are  needed 
to  stem  a  pestilence  which  endangers  the  whole  com- 
munity. Everyone  will  admit  that  the  river  or  the 
wells  or  the  swamp  ought  to  be  subjected  to  what- 
ever scientific  treatment  is  required.  This  is  done 
with  the  consent  of  the  whole  community  and  it  is 
left  to  the  experts  to  determine  methods  and  means. 
But  a  suggestion  that  will  shorten  hours  of  labor, 
that  will  readjust  property  relations,  that  will  change 
the  standards  of  life  of  one  part  of  the  community 
is  generally  resisted  by  another  part. 

The  difference  between  the  two  changes  does  not 
lie  in  the  fact  that  one  is  more  essential  than  the 
other.  Changes  in  working  regulations  and  remun- 
eration may  involve  conditions  of  sanitation  and 
nutrition  that  are  of  the  greatest  importance  to  the 
health  and  life  of  the  community.  The  difference 
lies  in  the  fact  that  in  the  case  of  malaria  the  interest 
of  the  whole  community  is  involved,  while  changes 
in  working  conditions  are  opposed  by  one  class  in 
the  community — the  employers — and  demanded  by 
another  class — the  workers.  In  the  case  of 
malaria  the  interests  of  one  are  the  interests  of  all. 


THE  CONSERVATIVE  FUNCTION    169 

Every  one  is  subject  to  the  danger  and  will  benefit 
by  the  improvement.  In  the  second  case  the  interest 
of  the  employers  and  of  the  workers  are  diametric- 
ally opposed.  The  friction  arises  where  one  group 
stands  to  lose  by  the  definite  gains  of  another  group. 
The  resistance  is  caused  by  class  interests  and  has 
nothing  to  do  with  the  merit  of  the  suggested 
changes. 

Revolutions,  and  the  cost  of  human  sacrifice  which 
they  imply,  are  caused  by  resistance  to  change  and 
not  by  the  desire  for  change  as  such.  The  satisfied 
and  entrenched  part  of  the  community  forces  the 
dissatisfied  and  discontented  to  revolution  because 
peaceful  progress  is  opposed  and  repressed.  Revo- 
lution is  a  class  affair.  I  am  speaking  of  social 
revolutions  and  such  have  always  been  the  work  of 
the  masses  of  people  against  an  entrenched  class. 
This  revolutionary  method  is  made  inevitable  by 
conflicting  interests  and  by  the  difference  in  point  of 
view  and  ideology  that  goes  with  it.  The  ,way  out  of 
this  situation  is  the  reduction  of  human  progress  to 
a  deliberate  and  group-determined  thing,  a  thing 
that  is  to  benefit  the  whole  community.  But  such  a 
proposal  is  only  feasible  in  general  application  when 
the  interests  of  the  whole  community  are  one,  when 
the  benefit  of  one  is  the  benefit  of  all.  Without  such 
a  common  interest,  social  progress  must  involve  the 
friction  with  which  we  are  familiar  in  revolutions 
and  in  strikes.  The  labor  movement  has  as  its  ideal 
function  to  achieve  this  unity  of  purpose  and  inter- 
est for  society.  It  is  a  conscious  aim  on  the  part  of 
radical  labor  and  is  at  the  same  time  the  less  articu- 


170  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

late  but  generally  accepted  end  of  even  the  most  con- 
servative labor  groups.  This  general  acceptance  of 
the  elimination  of  strife  in  social  adjustment  as  one 
of  the  ends  of  the  labor  movement  is  highly  import- 
ant because  it  is  so  vital  a  part  of  our  current  life 
activities.  This  idealism  receives  fuller  significance 
when  one  realizes  that  this  is  not  only  the  ideal  but 
the  method  of  the  labor  movement. 

The  labor  movement  functions  by  reducing  fric- 
tion within  a  given  group.  It  functions  by  elimin- 
ating competition,  difference  of  pecuniary  advan- 
tage and  personal  economic  worth  within  any  given 
labor  element,  to  its  minimum.  This  is  the  source 
of  labor  power.  It  is  strong  and  vital  because  it 
can  act  on  group  consent  based  on  community  of  in- 
terest. This  community  of  consent  is  attained  by 
reducing  the  economic  and  social  interest  of  the 
group  to  a  common  denominator.  When  the  labor 
movement  has  succeeded  in  organizing  a  hundred 
thousand  men  in  any  given  industry  into  one  organ- 
ization, it  has  at  the  same  time  succeeded  in  elimin- 
ating economic  differences  and  competition  for 
economic  survival  within  that  group.  The  wage 
interests  of  one  engineer  on  our  railroads  are  the 
same  as  those  of  any  other.  The  two  men  do  not 
strive  against  each  other  for  a  living.  There  is  no 
competition  for  economic  goods,  for  better  wages,  or 
more  favorable  conditions  between  them.  They  work 
in  unison.  They  have  succeeded  as  a  matter  of  prac- 
tical application  in  making  the  economic  advantage 
of  one  member  of  their  group  the  economic  advan- 
tage of  any  other  member  of  that  particular  group. 


THE  CONSERVATIVE  FUNCTION    171 

The  theory  of  the  survival  of  the  fittest  has  no 
economic  implications  within  an  organized  group 
of  workers.  They  are  all  fit  to  survive  economic- 
ally when  all  are  members  of  the  union.  They  live 
by  cooperation  and  not  by  competition  with  each 
other.  This  is  one  of  the  basic  facts  of  the  method 
of  the  labor  movement  when  viewed  as  an  economic 
entity.  It  is  the  living  embodiment  of  the  poverty 
of  the  economic  theory  of  competition,  of  struggle 
and  of  belief  that  men  live  by  friction  rather  than 
by  cooperation.  It  is  true,  of  course,  that  their 
unity  is  a  unity  for  more  effective  competition. 
They  are  a  unit  for  more  effective  competition 
against  an  entrenched  class  of  legally  protected 
owners.  This  must  be  fully  evident  when  we  realize 
the  fact  that  the  labor  organization  has  the  inevita- 
ble tendency  to  spread  this  basis  of  unity  over  an 
ever  wider  field,  reaching  from  a  hundred  thousand 
to  a  million  workers,  of  growing  from  the  bounds 
of  a  locality  to  the  limits  of  a  nation,  and  stretching 
beyond  the  boundaries  of  a  nation  to  include  the 
world.  It  functions  by  reducing  human  friction, 
by  the  elimination  of  individual  competition,  by 
making  the  interests  of  one  the  interests  of  all  on  an 
ever  larger  scale.  It  works  by  cumulatively  reduc- 
ing economic  incomes,  economic  ambitions  and 
economic  incentives  to  a  common  denominator. 

It  is  this  fact,  along  with  the  apparent  tendency 
of  the  labor  movement  to  grow  ever  larger  in  its 
inclusiveness,  ever  greater  in  its  numbers  and  fuller 
in  its  consciousness,  that  makes  the  suggestion  for 
reducing  economic  classes  to  a  single  class  more 


172  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

than  a  mere  verbal  threat.  Labor  does  so  in  fact 
wherever  it  succeeds  in  organizing.  It  tends  inevi- 
tably to  narrow  the  economic  equation  between  man 
and  man.  As  current  social  revolutions  are  mainly 
the  product  of  class  economic  interests,  labor  tends 
to  make  revolutions  needless  and  ultimately  unneces- 
sary by  making  the  interests  of  one  the  interests  of 
all.  It  makes  for  social  peace  by  eliminating  the 
economic  class  and  with  it  all  the  paraphernalia  in 
the  way  of  social  and  political  ideology  that  fol- 
lows such  a  differentiation  between  man  and  man 
in  the  terms  of  income  and  possession.  It  tends 
to  make  progress  pragmatic,  deliberate  and  pur- 
poseful. Men  in  the  labor  union  take  action  in 
terms  of  the  interests  of  the  whole  group  and  do  it 
by  democratic  procedure.  This  is  only  possible 
when  the  group  feels  its  concerns  to  be  vital  to  the 
whole  of  its  membership.  Community  of  action  is 
determined  by  community  of  interest. 

Labor,  when  organized,  thus  tends  inevitably  to  a 
reduction  of  the  economic  equation  between  man 
and  man.  It  makes  competition  unnecessary  for 
economic  sustenance.  But  this  material  equaliza- 
tion has  a  great  influence  upon  the  growth  of  com- 
petition for  spiritual  and  social  ends.  It  eliminates 
the  struggle  for  bread  and  stimulates  the  strug- 
gle for  leadership.  It  saves  energy  from  the  com- 
petitive economic  field  and  provides  opportunity  for 
its  expansion  and  development  in  the  group  activi- 
ties which  it  stimulates. 

This  aspect  of  the  labor  movement  is  very  inter- 
esting and  throws  a  good  deal  of  light  upon  the 


THE  CONSERVATIVE  FUNCTION    173 

problem  of  human  incentive  and  interest  in  a  com- 
munity where  the  economic  motive  is  reduced  to  its 
minimum.  As  a  matter  of  historical  origin,  the 
labor  movement  is  primarily  an  economic  organiza- 
tion, and  is  instituted  for  the  purpose  of  monetary 
advantage  and  the  security  which  said  advantage 
implies.  This  advantage  is  attained  by  equalizing 
the  differences  in  income  and  by  reducing  to  a  com- 
mon equation  the  monetary  interests  of  the  indi- 
viduals in  the  group.  The  struggle  for  social  and 
aesthetic  values  is  enhanced  by  the  elimination  of 
individual  competition.  The  economic  aspect  of 
the  worker's  existence  loses  a  good  deal  of  its  prom- 
inence. It  becomes  subsidiary  to  association,  to 
community  of  feeling,  and  to  mutual  trust.  The 
whole  scheme  of  union  activities  involves  a  number 
of  things  other  than  the  struggle  for  financial  gain. 
Social,  educational  and  group  interests  make  them- 
selves felt,  although  they  have  no  immediate  bearing 
upon  the  economic  situation. 

These  activities  increase  in  importance  with  the 
growth  and  stability  of  the  organization.  They 
become  the  basis  for  the  greater  part  of  the  strug- 
gles that  are  current  in  the  different  unions.  These, 
however,  center  in  other  than  financial  things.  They 
are  the  spiritual  consequence  of  association.  By 
eliminating  economic  competition,  the  competitions 
for  emulation,  for  leadership,  for  honor,  for  a 
place  of  trust  and  confidence,  are  enhanced.  In- 
centive becomes  centered  about  the  privilege  to  serve 
the  group,  about  the  opportunity  to  exercise  respon- 
sibility, to  participate  in  the  councils  of  the  union, 


174  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

about  the  opportunity  to  exercise  one's  ingenuity 
for  service  rather  than  for  gain.  Life  may  still  be 
said  to  be  a  struggle,  but  it  is  a  struggle  to  serve  the 
group.  I  am  not  at  present  concerned  with  the 
question  of  selfishness  or  altruism.  Let  it  be  as- 
sumed that  it  is  still  personal  selfishness  and  the  de- 
sire for  power  which  stimulates  the  activities  of 
the  active  element  in  the  union.  But  the  result  is 
different  from  that  which  follows  the  competition 
for  gain.  Here  one  strives  to  be  in  good  standing, 
to  attain  the  confidence  of  others.  These  things 
are  to  be  had  only  on  the  basis  of  merit — a  merit 
which  displays  itself  in  the  service  rendered  to  the 
group. 

Anyone  acquainted  with  the  functioning  of  the 
labor  movement  knows  what  energy,  persistence 
and  activity  enter  into  its  make-up.  It  exhibits  ser- 
vices to  the  group  which  stretch  over  years  of  sacri- 
fice, and  the  remuneration  consists  in  the  feeling  of 
pride  and  joy  that  comes  to  one  who  knows  that  he 
has  given  his  best  to  serve  his  group  and  earns  in 
turn  the  respect  of  his  fellow  members.  Here  de- 
velop motives  which  are  not  financial.  They  are 
simply  the  demand  on  the  part  of  the  individual 
for  conspicuous  presence  in  the  group.  The 
motives  here  are  group  interests,  place  and  oppor- 
tunity for  leadership  and  the  possibility  for  creative 
activity.  The  worker  here  becomes  a  conscious  and 
important  man,  a  person  with  dignity  and  with  indi- 
viduality. He  does  all  that  through  having  sunk 
his  financial  and  economic  interests  into  that  of 
group,  of  assuming  a  standard  of  economic  equal- 


THE  CONSERVATIVE  FUNCTION    175 

ity,  of  eliminating  competition  for  gain,  and  of  sub- 
stituting the  motives  centered  about  the  spiritual 
rather  than  about  the  material  interests  of  life.  This 
single  fact  alone  gives  the  labor  movement  a  mighty 
spiritual  function.  It  indicates  that  the  economic 
struggle  within  any  group  may  be  supplanted  by  co- 
operation, and  that  such  substitution  enhances  the 
motives  of  service  rather  than  those  of  gain  in 
the  individual.  It  makes  working  for  others  towards 
the  attainment  of  personal  good  a  fact  in  the 
worker's  life.  It  gives  the  labor  movement  a  highly 
conservative  function.  It  conserves  energy,  trans- 
mutes economic  interests  to  spiritual  values  and 
makes  progress  pragmatic  rather  than  violently 
revolutionary. 


PART  III 

Consequences 


177 


CHAPTER  XV 

REMUNERATION 

THE  problem  of  remuneration  is  bound  to  be  one 
of  the  most  crucial  in  any  attempt  at  industrial 
democracy.  How  shall  man  be  paid  for  his  work? 
Under  current  conditions  this  is  determined  dog- 
matically and  without  fine  distinction,  on  the  basis 
of  competition.  Competition  is  often  modified  by 
various  social  factors;  such  things  as  the  standard 
of  living,  organization  and  legal  regulations  come  in 
and  modify  the  pure  workings  of  the  forces  of  com- 
petition. While  people  generally  are  not  satisfied  with 
what  they  receive,  and  while  the  money  wage  is  a 
fluctuating  and  changing  thing  in  the  face  of  a 
rising  of  prices  or  development  of  new  needs,  it  is 
still  a  determination.  Wages  are  paid  and  received 
in  the  commercial  world  in  a  commercial  way. 
Each  man  is  given  what  he  will  accept  and  he  ac- 
cepts what  he  must  or  thinks  he  must  accept  if  he 
is  to  serve  his  best  interests.  I  am  not  at  present 
concerned  in  the  theory  of  the  payment  of  wages. 

None  of  the  theories  represented  seem  satisfac- 
tory and  all  that  can  be  said  of  them,  even  if  one 
would  give  them  their  fullest  value,  is  that  the 

179 


180  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

theories  of  wages  explain  what  is  supposed  to  de- 
termine the  wages  and  income  rather  than  whether 
that  division  is  either  desirable,  good  social  policy, 
or  even  a  proper  distribution  of  the  produced  wealth 
of  the  community.  This  division  of  the  income  of 
the  community  on  the  basis  of  competition  is  a 
working  method  under  the  present  system.  When 
the  whole  work  of  man  is  computed  primarily  in 
terms  of  money  profit-and-loss,  when  all  values  are 
market  values,  it  seems  justifiable  and  at  least  work- 
able that  wages,  too,  should  be  determined  on  the 
profit-and-loss  money  motive.  It  is  assumed,  how- 
ever, that  under  any  system  of  industrial  democracy 
where  social  control  and  service  will  take  the  place 
of  money  income  and  loss,  where  cooperation  will 
take  the  place  of  competition,  the  competitive  wage 
will  not  serve.  Some  other  form  of  remuneration 
will  have  to  be  determined.  Some  other  basis  of 
payment  for  service  will  have  to  become  a  fact  in 
the  group.  What  shall  that  be  ? 

The  formula  of  the  Socialist,  "The  full  product 
of  one's  labor,"  seems  thoroughly  unsatisfactory  for 
practical  application  even  if  it  may  have  attrac- 
tions as  a  theoretic  statement.  The  full  product  of 
the  labor  of  the  community  is  its  full  income.  The 
work  of  the  community  includes  everything — the 
making  of  baby  carriages,  horseshoes,  bridges, 
checkers,  violins,  microscopes  and  scarf  pins — 
every  object  of  use  that  has  some  labor  attached  to 
it.  All  of  these  individual  things  taken  collectively 
represent  the  whole  work  of  the  community;  practi- 
cally not  one  of  them  represents  the  work  of  any 


REMUNERATION  181 

individual.  Goods  are  social  products  and  there  is  no 
method  of  determining  the  value  contributed  by  any 
one  individual  to  the  final  product.  In  fact,  it 
would  seem  that  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  con- 
sumer the  contributions  of  all  the  individuals  whose 
efforts  were  actually  required  for  its  fruition  and 
for  its  being  placed  at  his  service  were  equally 
necessary,  and  the  consumer's  point  of  view  is  in  this 
case  the  crucial  one.  Things  are  made  for  us.  The 
user  alone  is  the  one  who  gives  value  to  any  product, 
for  if  a  thing  has  no  value  to  a  consumer  or  con- 
sumers it  has  no  value  at  all.  I  am,  of  course, 
thinking  of  the  consumer  in  a  very  broad  sense  to 
include  him  who  uses  machinery  for  further  produc- 
tion as  well  as  him  who  actually  enjoys  the  final 
product  of  the  machine  as  it  is  served  to  him. 

How  vain  it  is  to  attempt  to  distinguish  the 
value  of  any  labor  contributed  to  the  making  of  any 
article,  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  consumer,  is 
easily  made  vivid  by  a  simple  illustration.  Cali- 
fornia pears  have  to  be  grown,  picked,  sepa- 
rated, packed,  shipped  and  placed  at  the  disposal  of, 
say,  the  consumer  in  New  York  City.  To  achieve 
this  result  it  is  necessary  to  employ  an  in- 
numerable host  of  people — those  who  serve  indirect- 
ly by  supplying  boxes  for  packing,  chemical  products 
for  spraying  the  trees,  coal  for  transportation,  and 
iron  or  steel  for  nails  to  nail  the  boxes  together. 
But  let  us  take  the  more  immediate  efforts  of  the 
people  directly  concerned  with  the  pear.  There  is 
the  grower  who  may  be  a  highly  skilled  specialist; 
the  picker  who  is  a  common  laborer;  the  packer 


182  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

who  may  need  some  skill;  the  shipping  clerk,  the 
longshoreman  who  will  pack  the  fruit  on  or  take  it 
off  the  boat. 

Now  who  is  the  most  important  contributor  to 
the  final  product  in  so  far  as  the  consumer  in  New 
York  City  is  concerned?  Is  it  the  grower,  the 
packer,  the  sailor,  the  longshoreman?  If  any  one 
of  these  had  failed  to  do  his  part  of  the  work  the 
consumer  would  have  to  be  content  without  Cali- 
fornia pears.  They  might  never  have  been  pro- 
duced if  the  fruit  grower  had  failed  to  spray  the 
trees;  they  might  never  have  been  picked  if  the 
picker  had  gone  on  a  strike ;  they  might  have  rotted 
on  the  way  if  the  handlers  of  the  boxes  had  re- 
fused to  touch  them.  If  the  men  in  any  one  depart- 
ment in  the  pear-raising  industry  had  refused  to  do 
their  work  the  New  York  City  consumer  would  have 
been  deprived  of  the  final  purpose  and  end  of 
raising  pears.  Without  the  cooperation  of  any 
one  of  the  series,  the  work  of  all  the  others  would 
have  gone  for  naught.  There  would  have  been  no 
consumption  value  to  the  pear  and  the  labor  that  has 
no  consumption  value  in  the  end  has  no  value  at  all. 
To  attempt  to  pay  any  one  section  for  the  part  it 
contributed  to  the  final  product,  "the  full  value  of 
his  product,"  as  the  Socialist  would  say,  has  here  no 
meaning,  unless  it  be  that  all  contributed  equally  to 
the  work  of  making  the  pear  of  consumptive  value. 

What  is  true  of  the  pear  is  true  of  the  ten  thou- 
sand other  products  and  services  which  make  up  the 
community's  income.  So  far  as  the  consumer  is 
concerned,  every  product  which  he  uses  and  which 


REMUNERATION  183 

is  essential  to  his  well-being  has  a  value  which  can- 
not discriminate  between  the  separate  contributors 
to  its  final  consummation.  This  is  true  of  ice  cream, 
of  medicine,  of  bread,  as  well  as  of  clothes,  houses 
and  books.  The  author  is  essential ;  so  is  the  print- 
er, the  distributor,  the  maker  of  ink,  and  the  ma- 
chinist. Each  of  them  has  contributed  to  make 
that  an  enjoyable  or  useful  product,  and  the  failure 
of  any  one  of  them  would,  under  present  condi- 
tions, have  made  useless  the  work  of  all  the  others. 
It  must  be  obvious  also  that  the  ordinary  distinc- 
tion between  skilled  and  unskilled  labor  as  the  basis 
of  remuneration  becomes  untenable  when  the  work- 
ers are  fully  organized.  Not  only  does  the  machine 
tend  to  destroy  skill  but  even  without  that  destruc- 
tion, when  the  labor  movement  succeeds  in  group- 
ing a  sufficiently  large  number  of  unskilled  men  in 
any  industry  as  a  unit  in  that  industry,  it  makes  them 
for  all  practical  purposes,  of  equal  importance  with 
the  highly  skilled  specialist.  The  industry  cannot 
continue  without  the  single  trained  chemist,  nor  can 
it  continue  without  the  organized  group  of  unskilled 
workers  who  make  it  possible  for  the  chemist  to 
direct  the  industry.  If  it  is  assumed  that  all  the 
major  industries  will  be  organized,  then  skill  and 
lack  of  it  cannot  be  differentiated  in  determining 
wage  payment,  because  the  organized  unskilled  are 
as  important  to  the  industry  as  the  skilled.  This  fact 
is  strikingly  illustrated  by  the  constant  approxima- 
tion in  wages  and  hours  and  importance  which  the 
unskilled  are  making  as  the  result  of  organization. 
We  thus  have  the  unskilled  hod-carrier  occupying  a 


184  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

place  in  the  building  industry  which  may  be  com- 
pared to  that  of  almost  any  other  trade  therein. 

The  general  impossibility  of  dividing  the  separate 
contribution  of  any  individual  from  the  finished 
product  is  also  true  when  the  contribution  of  indus- 
try, profession  or  trade  is  considered.  The  view 
here  taken  is  the  consumer's  view,  for  it  is  he  who 
gives  value  to  production.  The  consumer  requires 
coal,  but  the  miner  must  have  steel,  electricity, 
chemistry  and  transportation  as  his  immediate  co- 
operators  if  the  consumer  is  to  enjoy  his  coal.  The 
consumer  wants  bread,  but  the  skilled  farmer,  the 
farmhand,  the  railroad  worker,  the  mechanic  who 
makes  the  tools,  the  miller,  the  baker  and  the  bak- 
er's boy  are  all  essential  to  provide  the  bread  to  the 
consumer,  and  all  are  equally  valuable  for  him. 
Their  individual  services  have  no  value  except  in  so 
far  as  they  are  parts  of  a  cooperating  group  of  labor 
— having  in  view  a  certain  consumer's  end.  The 
same,  of  course,  is  true  of  the  professions.  The 
doctor  without  the  instrument  maker,  the  engineer 
without  the  laborer,  the  sanitary  engineer  without 
the  street  cleaner,  the  chemist  without  the  miner  and 
the  agricultural  worker  without  the  implement 
maker,  are  helpless  and  of  little  practical  value  to 
the  consumer  in  a  community  as  complex  as  ours, 
and  unless  they  can  serve  the  consumer  they  have  no 
useful  function  to  perform. 

It  is  thus  evident  that  under  present  economic 
conditions  it  is  not  possible  to  evaluate  the  work  of 
any  one  individual.  It  is  not  even  possible  to  evaluate 
the  work  of  any  given  group,  profession  or  indus- 


REMUNERATION  185 

try.  All  industries  are  practically  so  bound  together, 
so  interdependent,  that  one  cannot  continue  to  serve 
without  directly  feeding  upon  many  others  and  indi- 
rectly upon  all  of  the  cooperative  functions  of  the 
community.  This  fact  makes  the  separation  of 
earnings  such  as  takes  place  to-day  a  purely  arbi- 
trary and  dogmatic  thing.  Evaluation  is  in  terms 
of  profit  and  money,  and  both  of  these  are  habitual 
arrangements  rather  than  such  as  actually  corre- 
spond either  to  the  value  of  the  service  or  to  the 
socially  desirable  distributive  serving  of  the  con- 
suming needs  of  the  community. 

In  the  chapter  on  wages  it  is  pointed  out  that 
there  is  a  very  strong  tendency  within  the  labor 
movement  towards  an  equalization  of  the  wage  in- 
come of  the  worker.  This  tendency  deserves 
special  emphasis  and  significance  in  the  light  of  the 
above  discussion.  A  cooperative  industrial  com- 
munity would  of  necessity  be  a  consumer's  commun- 
ity— consumer's  in  the  sense  that  production  would 
be  for  service  and  not  for  profit.  This  fact,  com- 
bined with  the  general  tendency  towards  a  greater 
sense  of  individual  equality,  makes  the  assumption 
of  a  possible  change  from  varying  to  an  equal  in- 
come a  strong  possibility  under  any  cooperative 
democracy.  In  fact,  it  does  seem  that  a  community 
which  is  organized  for  the  purpose  of  raising  the 
standard  of  living  of  all  people  in  it,  which  is  con- 
cerned with  limiting  the  points  of  friction  between 
man  and  man  and  group  and  group  in  its  economic 
aspects,  may  find  the  equal  wage  a  very  convenient 
process  for  achieving  that  end,  for  as  has  already 


186  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

been  pointed  out  there  are  no  differences  of  value 
for  the  consumer  in  the  contributors  to  a  finished 
product.  He  values  them  all  in  terms  of  use,  and 
in  terms  of  use  they  are  all  equally  valuable.  A 
community  that  is  not  organized  on  the  profit 
motive  will  have  as  its  end  the  consumer's  interests, 
the  producer  himself  being  the  consumer. 

The  likelihood  of  the  acceptance  of  such  wage 
payment  becomes  more  evident  when  it  is  seen  how 
difficult  it  would  be  to  find  any  system  that  would 
involve  less  friction,  less  discontent,  and  would  by 
and  large  give  greater  satisfaction  to  the  mass  of 
men.  Such  a  system  would  also  have  the  positive 
value  of  limiting  the  friction  between  group  and 
group  for  greater  economic  advantage  and  meeting 
in  advance  a  criticism  which  is  very  serious  indeed 
when  urged  against  the  syndicalist — unless  he  ac- 
cepts the  principle  of  the  common  value  of  all  neces- 
sary labor,  leaving  the  word  "necessary"  to  be  de- 
fined by  the  producer's  congress  on  the  basis  of  eco- 
nomic priority.  That  is  what  we  did  during  the  war 
with  the  difference  that  our  priority  was  in  refer- 
ence to  war  for  destruction  while  their  priority 
would  be  in  reference  to  peace  for  constructive  and 
living  ends.  During  the  war  we  gave  the  first 
place  to  guns  and  munitions;  they  would  probably 
give  it  to  health  and  bread.  I  shall  discuss  the 
problem  of  priority  a  little  later. 

The  question  of  incentive  which  is  often  raised 
in  this  connection  seems  to  the  author  a  somewhat 
unreal  and  exaggerated  matter.  Not  that  the  in- 
centives are  unimportant,  but  that  specific  formula- 


REMUNERATION  187 

tions  of  the  conditions  under  which  incentive 
may  properly  function  are  rather  superfluous.  We 
are  concerned  with  an  organic  social  transformation 
which  is  re-shaping  social  institutions.  This  pro- 
cess is  a  natural  consequence  of  the  development  of 
the  machine,  the  competitive  ownership  of  indus- 
try, the  commercial  spirit  and  profit  motive  which 
dominate  present-day  economic  organization. 
These  and  similar  factors  have  given  rise  to  the 
labor  movement  as  a  matter  of  defense  against  the 
indifference  to  the  well-being  of  the  most  defense- 
less group  in  the  community — the  propertyless 
worker.  When  the  possible  outcome  of  this  de- 
fensive process  is  indicated  the  defenders  of  the 
status  quo  immediately  raise  the  question :  "What 
will  happen  to  incentive?"  The  easiest  and  probably 
the  best  answer  that  can  be  given  is  that  it  will  take 
care  of  itself. 

Incentive  is  not  a  special  thing  which  must  have 
money  or  inequality  to  operate.  Incentive  is 
primarily  an  internal  matter.  It  is  related  to  the 
drives,  the  instincts,  which  compel  human  nature  to 
activity,  and  money  or  inequality  are  mere  incidents. 
It  is  related  to  such  prime  things  as  hunger,  sex, 
playfulness,  the  desire  to  shine,  to  dominate,  to  con- 
spicious  self-exhibition,  to  pure  physical  joy  that 
follows  likable  activity,  to  the  response  to  color, 
form,  sound  and  touch.  These  are  the  factors 
which  awaken  human  interest  and  maintain  human 
activity.  Anyone  who  thinks  it  is  money,  the  pay 
envelope,  or  inequality  that  is  the  controlling  factor 
in  human  activity  is  simply  out  of  date  and  unac- 


188  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

quainted  with  the  best  in  modern  psychology.  He 
belongs  to  the  good  old  age  of  Ricardo  and  Ben- 
tham  when  rationalism  and  self-interest  were  con- 
sidered the  essential  facts  in  human  behavior.  It 
is  a  mere  fable,  a  theory  as  far  removed  from  the 
facts  of  human  nature  as  is  the  Ptolemaic  concep- 
tion of  the  universe  from  the  present  relations 
known  to  exist  therein.  The  only  question  that  one 
could  raise  legitimately  in  the  postulation  of  indus- 
trial democracy  would  be  something  like  the  follow- 
ing: "Would  industrial  democracy  tend  to  stifle, 
repress,  and  inhibit  the  ordinary  demands  of 
human  nature  upon  its  environment  in  greater  de- 
gree than  does  the  present  industrial  system?"  An 
answer  to  this  'question  has  been  given  in  many  ways 
in  various  chapters  of  this  book;  what  we  can  do 
here  is  suggest  certain  other  considerations  that 
have  a  bearing  upon  the  subject. 

We  do  know  that  the  present  system  does  not  pro- 
vide sufficiently  for  incentive  in  industrial  opera- 
tions. The  outstanding  fact  about  contemporary 
industry  is  the  constant  complaint  that  the  workers 
have  lost  interest  in  their  work.  The  manufactur- 
ers are  always  retailing  that  the  men  are  shirking, 
that  they  do  not  work,  that  they  loaf  and  are  indif- 
ferent, that  not  only  the  quality  but  the  quantity 
of  labor  is  on  the  decline.  Some  of  the  reasons  for 
this  fact  may  be  found  in  the  chapter  on  labor- 
movement  psychology.  It  has  in  fact  been  predi- 
cated that  the  present  system  is  disintegrating 
mainly  because  the  workers  refuse  to  work  any 
longer  under  the  present  conditions.  To  say  that 


REMUNERATION  189 

they  refuse  to  work  is  to  make  it  a  conscious  matter. 
It  is  much  deeper  than  that.  It  is  passivity  or  actual 
disgust  with  the  confining  and  repressing  limits 
which  the  present  system  imposes.  The  worker's 
life  is  lived  in  an  atmosphere  of  confinement.  It  is 
lived  within  an  area  of  mechanical  force  which  de- 
nies to  the  individual  any  opportunities  for  play,  for 
control,  for  self-assertion,  for  artistic  joy.  The 
modern  factory  is  the  antithesis  of  all  these  needs  of 
the  individual.  It  is  primarily  repressive  because 
it  compels  an  unvarying  and  single  reaction  during 
the  whole  day  and  for  long  periods  at  a  time.  It 
saps  the  worker's  energy  and  takes  his  time;  it 
leaves  him  little  of  either  to  find  a  satisfactory  outlet 
for  all  the  other  needs  of  human  nature.  This  pre- 
dominating fact  about  industry  cannot  be  too 
often  emphasized.  It  lies  at  the  root  of  the  greater 
part  of  the  discontent  of  the  industrial  worker.  If 
incentive  is  to  be  provided  it  must  be  in  terms  of 
the  greater  outlets  in  the  industrial  field  where  the 
worker  spends  his  greater  energy  and  strength. 
The  possibilities  of  a  change  in  industrial  control's 
making  room  for  that  kind  of  outlet  are  more  than 
an  assumption  if  one  remembers  the  significance  of 
a  group  morale  in  its  influence  upon  individual  be- 
havior; the  industry  of  the  future  which  is  predi- 
cated by  the  labor  movement  makes  that  a  seemingly 
unavoidable  consequence. 

There  are  in  addition  to  the  general  considerations 
suggested  above  the  possibilities  that  would  natural- 
ly arise  from  group  association.  The  first  of  these 
is  that  we  should  assume  greater  interest  in  the  in- 


190  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

dustry  because  we  assumed  a  sense  of  ownership 
and  group  determination.  It  has  been  observed 
that  there  is  always  greater  interest  where  there  is 
a  prevailing  sense  of  ownership.  This  in  fact  has 
been  one  of  the  chief  arguments  for  the  mainten- 
ance of  private  property.  With  this  greater  feeling 
of  personal  control  and  determination  which  would 
arise  from  democratic  ownership  and  man- 
agement of  industry  we  may  safely  post- 
ulate a  greater  incentive,  for  interest  and 
incentive  are  concomitants.  The  second  fact 
that  we  may  also  safely  postulate  is  that  industrial 
democracy  would  provide  a  greater  degree  of 
scientific  training  and  insight  into  industrial  pro- 
cesses on  the  part  of  the  mass  of  the  workers  than 
at  present.  We  may  assume  this  because  industrial 
democracy  would  depend  largely  upon  group  deci- 
sions, and  such  to  be  satisfactory  would  have  to 
depend  upon  a  knowledge  and  understanding  of  the 
industry.  This  fact  is  dealt  with  in  the  chapter  on 
Labor  and  Education. 

We  know  that  a  human  being  is  generally  active 
and  that  he  likes  to  be  active  in  the  things  which  his 
group  approves.  In  a  situation  where  position, 
honor  and  power  would  in  all  probability  go  to 
those  whom  the  democratic  group  approved  of,  in 
such  circumstances  activity  in  the  interest  of  the 
group  would  be  the  basis  of  promotion,  and  activ- 
ity would  by  the  very  nature  of  the  situation  be 
concerned  with  the  industry.  The  desire  for 
approval  and  good  will,  so  strong  a  factor  in 
human  behavior,  would  compel  activity  in  terms 


REMUNERATION  191 

of  the  industry  through  which  one  had  a  group 
contact. 

The  possibility  of  awakening  the  latent  interests 
of  the  workers  is  another  element  that  may  be  ex- 
pected to  play  a  part  in  awakening  and  maintaining 
incentive.  The  degree  of  decentralization  is  very 
great.  Not  only  has  an  industry  a  corporate  self 
and  individual  unity,  but  each  factory  and  each  shop 
is  in  a  similar  way  a  unit  for  administrative  pur- 
poses. Where  the  group  in  question  assumed 
responsibility  for  its  own  function,  a  tendency  indi- 
cated by  the  Shop  Steward  movement,  there  would 
probably  arise  a  great  deal  of  the  same  esprit  de 
corps  which  we  find  in  practically  all  groups.  We 
need  only  recall  the  feverish  competition  of  different 
committees  selling  Liberty  Bonds  during  the  war  to 
see  the  possibilities  of  that  kind  of  situation  under 
favorable  conditions. 

It  is  not  beyond  the  sphere  of  reasonable  con- 
jecture that  each  group  in  industry  would  strive  for 
honorable  mention  and  recognition  as  a  group,  a 
fact  characteristically  manifest  in  other  groups  en- 
gaged in  a  social  enterprise.  And  we  must  never 
forget  that  the  labor  movement  points  to  a  distinctly 
corporate  and  social  organization  of  industrial  func- 
tions. Such  intensity  would  give  rise  to  a  degree  of 
stimulus  and  call  forth  latent  powers  of  inventive- 
ness and  ingenuity  to  a  degree  which  the  present  can- 
not claim  to  have  achieved.  Most  people  have  a  greater 
degree  of  such  powers  than  is  ordinarily  assumed. 

As  an  instance :  Many  more  people  love  music 
than  can  actually  play  an  instrument.  These  people 


192  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

could,  most  if  not  all,  have  acquired  a  respectable 
degree  of  technique  at  some  instrument  if  the  oppor- 
tunity had  been  provided.  This  is  true  in  other 
fields;  human  possibilities  are  greater  than  present 
achievements,  and  they  would  probably  be  brought 
out  more  fully  under  the  stimulus  of  group  activity. 
In  fact,  a  whole  series  of  ethical  concepts  may  be 
postulated  in  terms  of  the  group  life  which  industrial 
democracy  would  make  necessary.  All  of  these 
suggestions  are  but  adumbrations  of  the  real 
problem  of  incentive,  of  the  forces  which  the  indi- 
vidual obeys  when  he  displays  activity.1  The 
author,  however,  is  not  competent  to  write  a  realistic 
chapter  in  psychology  dealing  with  incentive,  and 
he  is  not  acquainted  with  any  published  material 
that  would  satisfy  that  problem.  We  are  rather 
ignorant  of  the  causes  of  human  incentive — at  least 
we  are  not  enough  acquainted  with  them  to  supply 
satisfactory  explanation.  One  thing  is  clear.  The 
present  system  of  production  and  distribution  does 
not  provide  a  satisfactory  monetary  incentive,  even  if 
money  in  itself  is  incentive  enough.  Upon  the  defi- 
ciencies of  the  present  system  of  monetary  incentive 
John  Stuart  Mill  deserves  quotation  at  length. 

1  As  a  suggestive  contribution  to  incentive,  the  following 
from  Thomas  A.  Edison  is  interesting,  "What  motives  Ijave 
actuated  you  during  your  life — ambition,  curiosity,  altruism, 
or  what?  Has  your  attitude  always  been  invention  for  in- 
vention's sake,  or  with  some  material  reward  in  view,  or 
what?" 

"I  have  put  that  question  tc  myself  many  times,"  answered 
Mr.  Edison,  "and  still  I  cannot  answer  it.  I  suppose  it  is 
like  a  man  who  becomes  very  expert  in  billiards :  he  wants 
to  play  the  game  all  the  time." — Saturday  Evening  Post,  Feb. 
11,  1921. 


REMUNERATION  193 

"The  objection  ordinarily  made  to  a  system  of 
community  property  and  equal  distribution  of  pro- 
duce, that  each  person  would  be  incessantly  occupied 
in  evading  his  fair  share  of  the  work,  points,  un- 
doubtedly, to  a  real  difficulty.  But  those  who  urge 
this  objection  forget  to  how  great  an  extent  the  same 
difficulty  exists  under  the  system  on  which  nine 
tenths  of  the  business  of  society  is  now  conducted. 
The  objection  supposes  that  honest  and  efficient  labor 
is  only  to  be  had  from  those  who  are  themselves  in- 
dividually to  reap  the  benefit  from  their  own  exer- 
tions. But  how  small  a  part  of  all  the  labor  per- 
formed in  England,  from  the  lowest  paid  to  the 
highest,  is  done  by  persons  working  for  their  own 
benefit.  ...  If,  therefore,  the  choice  were  to  be 
made  between  communism  with  all  of  its  changes, 
and  the  present  [1852]  state  of  society  with  all  of 
its  sufferings  and  injustices;  if  the  institution  of 
private  property  necessarily  carried  with  it  as  a 
consequence  that  the  produce  of  labor  should  be 
apportioned  as  we  now  see  it,  almost  in  an  inverse 
ratio  to  the  labor — the  largest  portions  to  those 
who  have  never  worked  at  all,  the  next  largest  to 
those  whose  work  is  almost  nominal,  and  so  on  in  a 
descending  scale,  the  remuneration  dwindling  as  the 
work  grows  harder  and  more  disagreeable  until  the 
most  fatiguing  and  exhausting  bodily  labor  cannot 
count  with  certainty  on  being  able  to  earn  even  the 
necessaries  of  life;  if  this  or  communism  were  the 
alternatives,  all  the  difficulties  great  or  small  of  com- 
munism, would  be  as  dust  in  the  balance."  Book  I, 
Chapter  I,  paragraph  3. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  FUNCTION  OF  INDUSTRIAL  GOVERNMENT 


remolding  of  the  community  which  is  im- 
plied  in  the  growth  of  the  labor  movement 
carries  with  it  a  reconstruction  of  all  the  more 
important  institutions  in  present-day  society.  Of 
all  the  changes  which  the  labor  movement  is  bring- 
ing about  probably  none  is  likely  to  be  more  sweep- 
ing, more  comprehensive,  than  its  influence  upon 
government.  A  discussion  of  the  government,  of 
the  future  industrial  community  indicated  by  the 
labor  movement,  is  at  best  likely  to  be  conjectural. 
It  is  essential,  however,  that  the  problem  be  dis- 
cussed and  if  possible  its  limitations  marked  out. 
Before  any  such  undertaking,  it  is  necessary  that  we 
define  the  institution  of  government  specifically. 

Political  theory  of  the  last  century  and  a  half  has 
generally  been  an  over-simplified  statement  of  the 
problem.  It  has  assumed  that  government  in  both 
its  administrative  and  directive  aspects  was  the 
essential  relation  between  man  and  man.  In  fact, 
one  might  almost  say  that  these  theories  of  govern- 
ment generally,  if  not  always,  made  the  state  as  a 
governmental  unit  and  society  synonymous  terms. 

194 


THE  FUNCTION  OF  GOVERNMENT    195 

This  hypothesis  is  essentially  untrue.  The  govern- 
mental institutions  characteristic  of  men  of  social 
organization  cannot  be  described  as  the  most  im- 
portant relation  the  human  being  exhibits.  There 
are  many  other  contacts,  interests,  fidelities  and 
loyalties  which  play  not  only  an  equal  part  with  that 
of  government  in  the  life  of  men  but  which  have  a 
far  more  constant  and  sensitive  influence.  The 
family  relation,  the  work  a  man  does,  his  intellectual 
and  social  interests,  his  friendships,  his  loves,  his 
hates,  his  hobbies,  the  games  he  plays,  and  the 
things  he  makes,  are  in  their  influence  upon  the 
individual  more  evident,  more  insistent,  more  regu- 
lar and  generally  more  crucial  than  the  organization 
of  the  community  which  determines  the  general 
legal  contacts  of  the  life  a  man  lives  in  the  company 
of  his  fellows.  That  is,  we  must  see  society  as 
multi-cellular,  social  organization  as  varied,  loyal- 
ties as  numerous,  and  government  at  best  as  only 
one  element  and  that  not  the  most  important  in  the 
lives  of  men.  Any  theory  of  society  that  would 
state  the  problem  of  human  cooperation  primarily 
in  terms  of  political  organization  is  such  an  over- 
simplified description  as  to  be  essentially  untrue. 

The  first  and  most  immediate  influence  upon 
government  structure  and  function  implied  in  the 
development  of  the  labor  movement  is  the  change 
from  individual  to  group  responsibility.  Our 
political  government  rests  upon  the  individual.  In 
theory  the  defense  of  the  rights  of  the  individual, 
the  duties  of  the  individual,  the  relation  between  in- 
dividual and  individual,  constitute  the  chief  concern 


196  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

of  contemporary  political  government.  The  struc- 
ture of  political  democracy  is  built  on  the  assump- 
tion of  the  essential  equality  of  man  and  man,  and 
upon  the  assumption  that  the  function  of  govern- 
ment is  to  regulate  men's  relationship's  with  one  an- 
other. This  description  of  the  individual  as  the 
basic  unit  of  community  organization,  however,  has 
become  and  is  becoming  daily  less  true  of  the  actual 
state  of  affairs  in  the  community. 

The  labor  movement  has  been,  if  not  the  only, 
certainly  one  of  the  chief  factors  in  shaping  society 
away  from  individual  self-sufficiency,  individual 
responsibility,  and  towards  functional  group  soli- 
darity. The  labor  movement  has  differentiated  the 
community  into  its  organic  industrial  elements,  and 
the  function  of  government,  even  at  present,  is  be- 
coming daily  more  and  more  a  function  of  harmon- 
izing the  conflicting  interests  of  groups  rather  than 
those  of  individuals.  All  one  has  to  do  to  convince 
himself  of  this  fact  is  to  examine  the  activities  of 
any  legislative  body.  He  will  find  associations  of 
all  kinds,  as  associations,  as  groups,  demanding  and 
receiving  legislative  attention.  The  railroads,  the 
railroad  workers,  the  mine  owners  and  the  miners, 
the  inter-state  commerce  commission  and  the  cham- 
bers of  commerce,  educational  associations  and 
organizations  of  civil  employees,  groups  upon 
groups  of  all  kinds  are  the  subject  of  legislative 
activity.  We  must,  therefore,  be  prepared  to  admit 
that  the  tendency  has  been  and  still  is  for  govern- 
ment to  become  more  constantly  concerned  with 
the  development  of  the  technique  of  group  relation- 


THE  FUNCTION  OF  GOVERNMENT   197 

ship.  The  organic  unit  rather  than  the  individual, 
one  might  say,  is  to-day  the  actual  if  not  the  theo- 
retic basis  of  governmental  function. 

It  has  already  been  indicated  in  the  chapters  deal- 
ing with  the  development  of  governmental  institu- 
tions by  the  labor  movement  that  the  future  govern- 
ment will  probably  be  one  composed  of  representa- 
tives of  organic  groups  of  industrial  workers;  that 
is,  functional  representation  is  likely  to  become  the 
pivotal  force  of  governmental  structure.  If  that 
should  prove  to  be  true,  as  there  is  every  reason  to 
believe  it  will,  then  the  problem  of  government  will 
be  the  problem  of  harmonizing,  coordinating,  con- 
trolling and  directing  the  relationships  of  these 
differentiated  industrial  units  in  the  community. 
What  those  problems  may  be,  how  they  will  be  met, 
and  the  technique  they  will  call  for,  constitute  the 
chief  problem  of  future  government  from  the  point 
of  view  of  industrial  democracy. 

It  must  also  be  recalled  that  this  change  in  com- 
munity organization  postulates  the  elimination  of 
the  competitive  commercial  system,  that  it  assumes 
the  substitution  of  service  for  profit  in  industrial 
activity;  it  also  takes  for  granted  that  production 
will  be  for  the  consumer's  interest  rather  than  for 
the  producer's  gain.  We  thus  have  the  conditions 
upon  which  the  discussion  of  governmental  function 
and  method  may  be  based.  We  have  described  the 
labor  movement  as  a  dynamic  process  forging  a 
new  social  organization  with  the  interest  of  the 
community  as  a  community  the  basis  of  activity. 
The  problem  is  concerned  therefore  with  what  such 


198  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

a  community  would  demand  from  its  government. 
What  functions  would  such  a  government  of  neces- 
sity have  to  undertake? 

Being  a  producer's  congress,  with  the  consumer's 
interest  foremost,  the  problem  would  seem  primar- 
ily to  be  a  problem  of  so  coordinating  the  activities 
of  the  community  as  to  satisfy  the  best  interest  of 
the  consumer,  who  incidentally  is  also  the  producer. 
If  we  visualize  such  a  government  in  action  we  may 
clearly  see  a  grouping  of  some  hundreds  of  men 
chosen  by  all  the  important  functional  groups  of  the 
community.  This  central  congress  would  represent 
the  chosen  delegates  of  all  the  differentiated  and 
self-conscious  groups.  All  of  the  community  ser- 
vices, from  that  of  the  humblest  window  cleaner 
to  that  of  the  most  skilled  artisan,  would  find  place 
there.  The  teachers'  organization  would  be  repre- 
sented by  the  teachers;  the  miners'  by  the  miners; 
the  building  industry  by  members  of  the  building 
trades ;  the  steel  workers'  by  steel  workers ;  the  rail- 
way men  by  members  of  the  railway  unions. 
There  would  be,  too,  a  complete  synthesis  of  the 
cultural,  social  and  functional  activities  of  the  com- 
munity. The  artist,  the  actor,  the  musician,  the 
scientist,  the  hodcarrier,  the  street-cleaner  and  the 
ditch-digger,  the  farmer  and  the  fruit  picker,  the 
maker  of  hairpins,  of  candy,  of  toothpicks,  would 
be  there  with  the  printer  of  books  and  the  architect 
of  tall  buildings,  and  the  builder  of  mighty  bridges. 

What  would  be  the  first  business  of  such  an  or- 
ganization? Obviously,  its  first  business  would  be 
to  determine  what  the  community  was  producing 


THE  FUNCTION  OF  GOVERNMENT   199 

and  whether  it  was  so  organized  as  to  meet  the  best 
interests  of  the  whole  community.  One  might  say 
that  the  first  function  of  such  a  congress  would  be 
to  get  information  of  the  producing  powers  and  ac- 
tivities of  the  community  placed  before  it,  analyzed, 
discussed  and  arranged  in  terms  of  their  import- 
ance. It  must  always  be  remembered  that  this  is 
a  cooperative,  industrial  democracy  with  the  interest 
of  the  community  always  and  primarily  the  first 
consideration.  This  information  would  be  avail- 
able because  it  would  actually  be  there  in  the 
experience,  contact  and  knowledge  of  the  individual 
representative  of  the  various  groups.  We  have  as- 
sumed a  complete  organization  of  the  community 
and  a  group  representation  of  it  in  that  congress. 
This  body  of  men  would  be  a  miniature  reflex  of 
the  community. 

It  is  perfectly  natural,  as  we  have  assumed,  that 
the  first  order  of  business  would  be  to  find  out  the 
number  of  men  employed  in  the  different  industries, 
their  productive  capacity,  the  kind  of  things  they  are 
making,  and  to  arrange  that  material  production  in 
some  order  of  social  utility.  What  this  order  would 
be  it  is  not  necessary  to  predict.  The  only  thing  that 
we  can  say  safely  is  that  such  a  congress  would  be 
inclined  to  give  the  essential  services  and  products 
first  place  and  the  others  their  places  in  the  cata- 
logue of  activities  in  the  degree  of  their  importance. 
While  any  such  arrangement  is  bound  to  be  arbi- 
trary and  ideally  unsatisfactory,  it  must  yet  be 
assumed  to  be  a  possible  arrangement,  possible  be- 
cause it  would  be  a  necessary  arrangement.  It  is  also 


200  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

safe  to  assume  that  the  arrangement  of  the  com- 
munity's productivity  in  terms  of  priority  would  be 
a  fairly  sensible  one,  for,  after  all,  these  men  would 
be  hard-headed  experts  trained  in  their  own  industry 
and  saturated  with  a  degree  of  social-mindedness 
not  to  be  found  in  the  profit-making  community. 
Their  interests  would  be  primarily  social  interests 
and  their  judgment  would  be  largely  expert  judg- 
ment. So,  while  we  cannot  say  that  the  works  of 
these  men  would  be  perfect,  we  must  assume  that 
they  would  be  workable  and  of  course  subject  to 
change  if  found  unsatisfactory. 

Priority  of  production  then  promises  to  be  the 
first  important  order  of  business  of  any  industrial 
government.  Priority  must  have  a  purpose,  a  stand- 
ard of  value,  a  thing  for  which  production  is  as- 
sumed to  be  important.  During  the  war  we  devel- 
oped a  system  o*f  priority.  In  that  system  the  point 
of  importance  was  war,  successful  war.  It  meant 
that  the  whole  system  of  productivity  was  deliber- 
ately organized,  is  so  far  as  possible,  to  meet  the 
end  of  war.  Munitions,  cannons,  rifles,  ships, 
clothing  for  soldiers,  sanitary  implements  needed  for 
war,  all  the  thousand  demands  of  successful  warfare 
were  placed  in  the  first  order  of  essentials.  Bread, 
health,  happiness,  comfort,  shelter,  everything  was 
made  or  not  made,  stimulated  or  not  stimulated,  em- 
phasized or  not  emphasized  in  the  degree  in  which  it 
seemed  to  be  essential  for  the  furtherance  of  success- 
ful war.  We  had  priority  for  purposes  of  victory. 
We  had  it  because  we  were  motivated  by  a  common 
end,  a  common  purpose — successful  warfare. 


THE  FUNCTION  OF  GOVERNMENT  201 

If  it  is  true  that,  in  spite  of  a  competitive  system, 
of  profiteering,  of  self-seeking,  it  was  possible 
under  the  influence  of  a  common  purpose  to  organ- 
ize a  workable  priority  method  of  production,  it 
cannot  but  be  assumed  that  a  community  which  has 
a  common  purpose  of  social  well-being,  organized 
on  the  basis  of  cooperative  service,  could  emulate 
an  equally  workable  priority  system  for  its  own  ends. 
But  in  this  case  the  priority  system  would  be  for 
purposes  of  producing  basically  essential  goods  first 
in  what  would  seem  to  be  the  desirable  order.  I  take 
it  that  food  and  health  would  probably  be  the  first 
considerations;  shelter,  clothing,  amusements  and 
other  elements  would  be  subordinated  to  essential 
food  and  health,  in  the  degree  in  which  they  would 
be  necessary — pragmatically  necessary — and  subject 
to  revision  as  experience  determined. 

The  second  order  of  business,  really  a  continua- 
tion of  the  first,  would  probably  be  the  consideration 
of  so  arranging  the  labor  forces  and  capital  in  the 
community  as  to  carry  out  the  implications  of  pri- 
ority to  their  fullest  advantage.  It  might  be  decided 
that  for  the  time  being  the  community  would  dis- 
pense with  certain  elements  of  production  consid- 
ered less  essential  than  others,  and  that  the  capital 
and  labor  at  present  employed  in  these  industries 
would  for  the  time  being  be  turned  over  to  those 
more  essential  uses,  a  process  of  limitation  and 
direction  of  goods  and  activities  which  was  in  a 
similar  way  carried  on  under  our  system  of  priority 
during  the  war.  It  might  be  possible  that  after  list- 
ing the,  say,  five  thousand  different  types  of  activi- 


202  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

ties  which  the  community  at  present  carries  on  from 
the  making  of  artificial  flowers  to  the  baking  of 
bread,  this  congress  would  decide  either  to  com- 
pletely curtail  or  to  limit  the  production  of  a  certain 
portion  of  these  five  thousand  activities  and  increase 
by  that  much  the  others. 

The  third  order  of  business  would  probably  be 
what  might  be  described  as  the  determination  of  the 
basis  of  industrial  citizenship;  that  is,  this  congress 
could  and  probably  would  say  that  only  those  who 
were  employed  in  the  activities  determined  as  essen- 
tial under  the  priority  system  were  entitled  to  the 
benefits  of  citizenship.  The  benefits  of  citizenship 
would  of  course  be  the  very  basis  of  existence  in  an 
industrial  community.  It  might  be  a  necessary  reg- 
ulation for  the  enforcement  of  the  priority  system. 
However,  there  are  other  ways  of  making  priority 
effective. 

The  fourth  function  of  government  under  an  in- 
dustrial democracy  would  be  the  determination,  not 
alone  of  the  kind  of  product,  but  also  of  the  amount. 
Take  as  an  instance  the  question  of  shoes.  The 
shoe  industry  through  its  statistical  experts  might 
say  that  for  next  year  it  will  be  necessary  or  desir- 
able to  produce  so  many  hundreds  of  millions  of 
shoes  of  such  fashion  and  such  grade,  and  that  for 
this  production  it  will  be  necessary  to  add  so  much 
new  machinery,  so  much  more  leather,  so  much 
more  thread,  so  many  more  workers.  The  building 
industry,  anxious  to  win  a  place  for  itself,  as  hav- 
ing been  most  thoughtful  of  the  interest  of  the  com- 
munity, might  suggest  that  it  would  have  to  double 


THE  FUNCTION  OF  GOVERNMENT  203 

the  building  of  last  year  and  for  that  purpose  would 
also  need  a  very  heavy  increase  of  labor,  material 
and  machinery.  This  too  might  of  course  be  done  by 
the  tailoring  industry.  It  is  perfectly  possible  to  as- 
sume that  all  the  demands  of  all  these  different  in- 
dustries, even  under  a  system  of  priority,  could  not 
be  satisfied  without  injury  to  some  of  the  other  vital 
activities  of  the  community.  It  would  therefore  be 
necessary  for  this  congress  to  pare  down  the  amount 
decreed  after  discussion,  compromise  and  group 
judgment,  so  as  to  meet  the  best  needs  of  the  com- 
munity ;  that  is,  it  would  have  the  function  of  deter- 
mining social  policy  in  production,  of  determining 
the  kind  of  production  and  the  amount  of  it. 

In  this  discussion  of  social  policy  as  a  function 
of  the  industrial  government,  the  problem  of  agri- 
culture is  of  immediate  pertinence,  and  it  is  very 
likely  that  the  agricultural  problem  would  receive 
early  attention.  The  point  here  is  that  for  purposes 
of  increasing  food  and  of  decreasing  the  amount  of 
labor  involved  in  raising  it  this  congress  might  de- 
cide that  the  greater  part  of  all  the  possible  saving 
in  steel  and  labor  which  an  organized  community 
could  make  should  go  into  the  production  of  farm 
machinery  and  implements  of  various  kinds  so  as 
to  increase  productivity  and  decrease  the  effort  per 
individual.  That  is,  this  congress  might  decide  that 
for  the  next  ten  years  all  the  steel  and  labor  which 
went  into  making  high  class  automobiles  under 
present  conditions  should  for  that  time  be  devoted 
to  making  farm  tractors  and  other  farm  machinery, 
and  that  after  ten  years  this  subject  might  again  be 


204  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

raised  for  consideration,  so  that,  if  the  community 
then  found  that  it  had  sufficiently  provided  itself 
with  farm  tools,  it  could  divert  that  newly  released 
labor  and  steel  to  the  making  of  high  class  auto- 
mobiles if  it  so  desired. 

The  fifth  function  of  such  a  congress  would  prob- 
ably be  the  problem  of  international  relations.  In- 
ternational relations  are,  it  seems,  destined  to  be- 
come more  complex  as  the  community  becomes 
more  dependent  upon  mechanical  organization. 
With  the  increase  of  communication,  of  travel,  of 
machine  production,  the  world  becomes  proportion- 
ately smaller,  and  external  problems  become  propor- 
tionately more  complicated  and  more  important. 
The  condition,  for  instance,  on  which  coal  from 
Pennsylvania  might  be  shipped  to  South  America 
in  return  for  coffee  is  a  subject  that  must,  by  the 
nature  of  the  problem,  be  one  delegated  to  a  con- 
gress representing  all  of  the  trades  and  interests  of 
the  community. 

The  sixth  function  of  such  a  congress  would 
probably  concern  itself  with  the  problem  of  educa- 
tion as  a  matter  of  social  policy.  It  would  not  take 
upon  itself  to  determine  the  kind  of  instruction  to 
be  given.  That  would  naturally  fall  to  the  organ- 
ized teachers  of  the  country.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
that  is  to  a  large  extent  a  problem  determined  by 
the  teachers  themselves  even  under  present  condi- 
tions. The  question  of  the  extent  of  education  over 
years  which  the  community  could  afford  to  give  to 
its  young  and  the  question  of  use  by  the  community 
of  the  energy  and  interest  of  its  youth  for  purposes 


THE  FUNCTION  OF  GOVERNMENT  205 

of  doing  the  cruder,  more  hazardous  and  more  dis- 
agreeable work  of  the  community,  might  very  well 
be  a  problem  for  this  congress. 

These  are,  of  course,  merely  indications  of  what 
seem  to  be  the  likely  and  more  immediate  problems 
of  the  community  which  this  congress  would  have 
to  deal  with.  It  must  be  noted  that  these  are  prob- 
lems of  determining  social  policy  rather  than  of 
administration.  One  might  almost  say  that  the  chief 
function  of  an  industrial  government  of  such  a  kind 
would  be  the  providing  of  statistical  information, 
the  discussion  of  policies,  the  determination  through 
group  judgment  of  the  most  important  work  to  be 
done,  while  in  actual  application  the  carrying  out  of 
these  functions  would  probably  fall  in  a  very  natural 
way  to  the  special  industries  and  organized  groups 
to  whom  these  particular  tasks  belong  as  an  organic 
part  of  their  place  in  the  community. 

As  an  illustration,  let  us  again  take  the  shoe  in- 
dustry. This  industry  consists  of  some  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  men,  spread  over  various  parts  of 
the  country,  whose  business  it  is  to  supply  the  com- 
munity with  footwear.  To  a  very  large  degree  they 
are  a  self -determining  group.  The  individual  busi- 
ness men  make  what  shoes  they  think  essential  for 
the  purposes  of  the  market,  with  comparatively  little 
consultation  with  other  groups.  For  instance,  they 
do  not  argue  with  the  cap-maker  on  that  subject. 
Under  an  industrial  democracy  this  industry  would 
be  organized  in  full,  containing  within  itself  all  the 
experts  in  the  industry  as  well  as  the  common 
laborer.  It  would  be  represented  in  the  central  con- 


206  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

gress  of  the  community  and  to  it  would  naturally 
be  delegated  the  problem  of  carrying  out  its  own 
function — the  making  of  shoes.  It — would  prob- 
ably come  to  the  congress  and  say,  after  discussion 
and  deliberation,  that  during  next  year  it  would 
have  to  make  so  many  pairs  of  shoes.  To  make 
those  shoes  it  would  need  so  much  coal,  so  much 
machinery,  so  much  leather,  so  many  needles,  so 
much  thread,  so  much  paper,  and  so  forth.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  the  industry  says  that  to-day,  but  not 
quite  in  the  same  way.  This  congress  would  then 
say  to  the  machinery  industry,  "It  will  be  your  busi- 
ness to  supply  the  shoe  industry  with  so  many 
machines";  to  the  coal  industry  it  would  say,  "It 
will  be  your  business  to  supply  the  shoe  industry 
with  so  much  coal  next  year";  to  the  makers  of 
thread  it  would  say,  "It  will  be  your  business  to  sup- 
ply the  shoe  industry  with  so  much  thread."  This 
in  a  large  way  would  represent  the  chief  function 
of  the  central  government  in  its  relation  to  the  shoe 
industry.  The  styles,  the  relation  between  boots  and 
shoes,  between  rubbers  and  leather  shoes,  are  things 
which  the  industry  determines  at  present  and  might 
very  well  be  allowed  to  determine.  That  is  a  techni- 
cal problem  of  administrative  organization  and  as 
such  it  belongs  to  the  industrial  union. 

The  shoe  industry  would  then,  at  its  own  con- 
gress, decide  in  accordance  with  its  own  knowledge 
how  the  distribution  of  the  work  could  be  carried 
on.  It  would  know  what  factories  were  best  adapt- 
ed to  the  making  of  boots  and  what  to  the  making 
of  shoes.  It  would  also  know  where  shoes  were 


THE  FUNCTION  OF  GOVERNMENT  207 

more  essential  than  boots.  In  fact,  it  knows  that 
to-day.  It  would  simply  be  a  matter  of  organizing 
and  collaborating  in  the  work.  It  might  say  to  the 
shoemakers  in  California,  if  there  are  any,  that  they 
had  better  produce  footwear  for  themselves  than 
ship  shoes  from  Massachusetts  to  California,  and 
shoes  from  California  to  New  York.  This  indust- 
rial shoemakers'  congress  will  also,  through  its 
technical  organization  and  committee  arrangement 
in  conference  with  the  machinery  industry,  decide 
just  what  kind  of  machinery  it  needed  and  with  the 
railway  industry  just  where  it  wants  those  machines 
delivered;  this,  of  course,  being  true  of  all  the  other 
dependent  and  related  industries.  That  is,  self- 
determination  for  the  industrial  groups  along  tech- 
nical lines  would  probably  prove  to  be  the  easiest, 
the  most  natural,  as  well  as  the  most  desirable  kind 
of  functional  coordination  in  an  industrial  democ- 
racy. This,  in  general,  represents  the  probable  tech- 
nique of  industrial  government  which  the  labor 
movement  is  developing  as  the  result  of  its  differ- 
entiation of  industrial  functions  in  the  community 
and  their  coordination  through  functional  repre- 
sentation. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

SOCIALIZATION 

'"THE  tendency  towards  socializing  the  services 
*  and  goods  of  the  community  and  placing  them 
at  the  disposal  of  the  individual  is  one  of  the  out- 
standing characteristics  of  present-day  society.  There 
is  undoubtedly  a  growing  sense  of  social  respon- 
sibility for  the  individual  on  the  part  of  the  com- 
munity. This  shows  itself  in  many  ways.  We  have 
socialized  such  things  as  water,  public  highways,  ed- 
ucation, lighted  streets,  bridges,  medical  service  for 
the  sick  through  public  hospitals,  dental  services  for 
the  children  in  public  schools,  parks,  museums, 
books  through  libraries,  and  information  ser- 
vices of  various  kinds,  and  many  other 
such  services  are  at  the  disposal  of  the 
individual  in  the  community.  To  this  must 
be  added  sickness  insurance,  unemployment 
insurance,  care  for  the  old  through  old  age 
pensions  and  for  the  young  through  maternity  pen- 
sions, factory  and  mine  inspection,  and  legal  en- 
forcement of  protection  against  dangerous  machin- 
ery. None  of  these  movements  has  as  yet  reached  its 
full  development,  but  all  show  the  trend  of  social  or- 

208 


SOCIALIZATION  209 

eranization.       I  have  enumerated  these  well  known 

o 

facts  only  because  they  receive  an  altogether  new 
significance  when  related  to  certain  tendencies  with- 
in the  labor  movement. 

The  labor  movement,  as  has  already  been 
pointed  out,  stands  for  a  minimum  wage.  It  has 
definitely  committed  itself  to  a  common  basis  of 
well-being  which  shall  belong  to  all  working  mem- 
bers of  the  community,  and  the  various  types  of 
social  insurance  are  only  a  broadening  of  the  basis  of 
the  minimum  to  include  all  the  members  of  the 
social  group.  What  this  means  in  its  present  form 
is  that  the  community  is  inclined  to  hold  itself 
responsible  for  a  certain  standard  of  income  for  the 
individual.  These  community  services  and  goods 
are  supplied  as  real  goods  rather  than  as  monetary 
income.  The  community  does  not  give  a  sick  man 
money  to  hire  a  doctor.  It  provides  him  with 
medical  service  in  a  hospital.  It  does  not  give  the 
father  of  a  school-girl  money  to  pay  a  dentist,  but 
provides  dental  service.  That  is  to  say,  there  is  an 
obvious  tendency  to  broaden  the  number  of  services 
which  the  community  feels  obligated  to  render  to 
the  individual;  and  this  is  definitely  a  new  note  in 
modern  social  policy. 

However,  it  is  only  when  we  compare  this  ten- 
dency of  the  general  political  community  to  socialize 
its  services  and  to  assume  responsibility  for  the 
individual's  well-being  with  two  outstanding  ten- 
dencies of  the  labor  movement  that  the  full  signifi- 
cance of  this  policy  becomes  evident.  The  two 
elements  referred  to  are  the  insistence  upon  a  mini- 


210  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

mum  for  all  workers  and  the  tendency  for  equal 
payment  which  is  characteristc  of  the  labor  move- 
ment. In  the  light  of  the  discussion  here  carried  on, 
it  is  apparent  that  the  labor  movement  is  trans- 
forming the  community  and  carrying  over  into  it 
some  of  the  practices  which  labor  has  developed. 
Because  of  the  prominence  of  these  two  factors  in 
the  present  labor  movement  we  may  assume  that  the 
minimum  of  service  and  income,  as  well  as  the  equal 
pay  tendency,  will  be  carried  over  into  the  future 
industrial  community.  We  shall  thus  have  a  com- 
munity composed  of  differentiated  groups  of  pro- 
ducers with  the  consumer's  point  of  view  dominat- 
ing and  determining  social  policy.  What  under 
such  conditions  would  be  the  probable  outcome  of 
the  policy  already  embodied  within  the  labor  move- 
ment and  provided  in  part  by  the  community  as  well 
as  of  the  tendency  towards  equality  of  remuneration 
implied  in  labor  organization? 

It  is  safe  to  assume  that  the  minimum  would 
probably  be  a  minimum  of  the  services  sufficient  to 
maintain  a  certain  standard  of  living.  In  concrete 
form  it  would  probably  mean  that  in  addition  to 
socialized  water,  light,  police  protection,  educational 
facilities  and  medical  service,  the  community  would 
add  as  many  other  elements  essential  to  a  minimum 
standard  of  livelihood  as  could  be  easily  provided 
on  the  basis  of  a  large-scale  manufacture.  It  is 
reasonable  to  believe  that  such  things  as  matches, 
for  instance,  and  collar  buttons,  shoe  laces  and  over- 
alls, and  such  other  things  as  can  be  produced  on  a 
large  scale  and  as  would  be  of  universal  use  might 


SOCIALIZATION  211 

very  well  be  provided  in  sufficient  numbers  to  be 
free  to  all  those  needing  them.  We  are  thinking  of  a 
community  organized  for  production  and  in  the 
interest  of  the  consumer,  where  every  individual  is 
entitled  by  the  nature  of  the  organization  to  his 
minimum  income  and  where  this  minimum  income 
might  very  well  be  provided  in  services  and 
goods  rather  than  in  money.  Bread,  as  an  instance, 
is  of  universal  use.  In  a  non-competitive  commun- 
ity where  a  minimum  of  income  was  established,  it 
would  be  a  useless  procedure  to  give  money  for 
buying  bread  rather  than  make  bread  available  to 
whoever  needed  it.  A  sick  man  goes  to  the  hos- 
pital and  stays  there  until  he  is  cured.  We  do  not 
give  him  money  on  the  basis  of  probable  sickness; 
we  give  him  medical  service  in  terms  of  actual 
necessity. 

The  whole  problem  of  socialization  is  bound  up 
with  the  problem  of  priority  which  we  discussed  in 
the  last  chapter.  In  that  chapter  it  was  shown  that 
in  an  industrial  cooperative  community  there  would 
be  an  inevitable  development  of  graded  productivity 
in  terms  of  social  need ;  the  emphasis  in  productivity 
would  be  on  the  production  of  essential  goods  in 
sufficient  number  to  maintain  the  well-being  of  the 
whole  community.  This  system  of  priority  would 
fluctuate  in  the  number  of  things  considered  essen- 
tial as  conditions  of  production  and  social  utility 
determined.  It  is  easy  to  conceive  that  under  such 
circumstances,  the  things  considered  of  basic  utility 
and  as  essential  to  the  well-being  of  the  community 
would  be  made  in  sufficiently  large  proportion  to 


212  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

be  capable  of  socialization.  Bread,  essential 
clothing,  essential  footwear,  essential  housing,  essen- 
tial light  and  other  basic  necessities  would,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  come  under  the  term  of  the 
minimum,  and  as  we  already  provide  to-day  some  of 
them  in  actual  service  rather  than  in  money,  there 
is  no  reason  to  believe  that  the  community  would 
then  provide  money  rather  than  services  for  its 
minimum  income. 

As  an  illustration,  we  have  free  libraries  with  all 
kinds  of  books  in  them  which  anyone  is  allowed  to 
borrow.  Here  is  an  educational  institution  social- 
ized in  terms  of  service.  It  is  perfectly  possible  to 
see  that  the  community  might  consider  footwear  as 
important  as  books  and  socialize  a  dozen  or  more 
different  kinds  of  footwear  so  as  to  admit  of  indi- 
vidual choice  and  yet  render  service  in  terms  of  the 
minimum  rather  than  in  terms  of  money.  As  the 
powers  of  the  community  to  produce  increase,  the 
socialized  minimum  would  probably  be  made  to 
include  goods  which  were  not  subject  to  socialization 
before.  For  instance,  it  might  in  the  first  years  of 
industrial  organization,  prove  impossible  for  the 
shoe  industries  to  produce  on  a  large  scale  more 
than  four  or  five  grades  of  shoes  in  sufficient  num- 
bers to  be  capable  of  socialization.  But,  with  the 
improvement  of  machinery  in  the  shoe  industry  and 
other  subsidiary  developments  it  might  easily  be 
possible  to  double  the  number  of  fashions  and  types 
of  shoes  subject  to  socialization  so  as  to  make  choice 
easier  and  more  pleasant. 

In  the  case  of  bread,  for  instance,  we  know  in  a 


SOCIALIZATION  213 

rough  way,  or  at  least  the  baking  industry  knows, 
how  much  bread  is  consumed.  It  might  be  possible 
to  socialize  bread  free  for  all  who  wanted  it.  To 
be  socialized,  however,  this  bread  might  have  to  be, 
for  the  time  being,  of  a  certain  kind  or  grade  which 
would  not  satisfy  a  large  portion  of  the  community, 
who  would  therefore  prefer  to  buy  different  bread, 
just  as  people  to-day  prefer  to  buy  special  bottled 
water  rather  than  use  the  water  from  the  sink 
faucet.  However,  with  improvement  in  the  baking 
industry,  change  of  machinery  and  increase  in  pro- 
ductivity, it  might  prove  possible  to  add  to  the 
variety  of  bread  and  ultimately  to  include  certain 
kinds  of  cake,  always  leaving  it  to  the  individual 
who  had  his  money  income  as  well  as  his  right  to 
the  minimum  services  of  the  community  to  buy  such 
other  things  as  were  available  in  the  line  of  bread  if 
he  was  not  satisfied  with  what  had  been  socialized 
up  to  date.  It  is  always  assumed  that  the  principle 
of  the  minimum  standard  of  living  has  been  carried 
over  by  the  labor  movement  into  the  new  social  or- 
ganization which  it  is  obviously  moulding.  It  is 
also  believed  that  this  minimum  will  in  all  probabil- 
ity be  a  minimum  of  services  and  goods  rather  than 
a  money  income;  that  is,  a  minimum  of  real  wages 
rather  than  of  money  wages.  We  give  all  children 
an  education  rather  than  their  parents  money  to  pay 
for  it.  It  would  only  require  an  extension  of  this 
principle  to  include  other  goods  as  the  community 
developed  the  power  to  produce  them  in  sufficiently 
large  quantity.  The  system  of  priority  worked  out 
in  such  a  community  would  determine  the  degree, 


214  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

the  kind  and  the  succession  of  socialization  of  goods 
in  the  community. 

It  is  also  evident  that  the  labor  movement  is  car- 
rying over  a  tendency  towards  an  equality  of  wages. 
In  the  chapter  on  Remuneration  it  was  argued  that 
the  acceptance  of  equality  of  payment  would  prob- 
ably prove  a  happy  political  expedient  in  any  indus- 
trial democracy.  Taking  the  human  being  as  he  is 
in  his  variable  and  differentiated  self-assertiveness, 
it  is  not  possible  to  assume  an  equalization  of  de- 
sires or  of  needs.  Differences  of  taste,  of  fashion, 
of  likes  and  dislikes,  of  hobbies,  the  desire  for 
special  articles  and  personal  idiosyncracies,  are 
things  which  are  likely  to  increase  rather  than  de- 
crease as  the  individual  becomes  more  cultured  and 
more  self-conscious.  This  fact  must  be  fully 
recognized.  No  imaginary  Utopia  will  make  all 
people  equal  or  make  them  all  satisfied  with  the 
same  thing.  No  world  can  be  built  upon  that  as- 
sumption. Human  nature  is  what  it  is,  and  it  is 
different  as  it  expresses  itself  in  different  individuals, 
All  of  this  simply  means  that  no  matter  to  what 
degree  any  community  may  find  it  possible  to 
broaden  the  minimum  of  services  and  goods  which  it 
can  render  to  the  individual,  in  addition  to  that  mini- 
mum a  large  and  indefinite  field  of  choice  and  self- 
determination  in  the  acquisition  of  personal  goods 
and  the  spending  of  time  in  self-expression  must  be 
left  free.  In  fact,  the  ideal  in  such  a  discussion  would 
be  to  make  provision  for  a  constantly  increasing  de- 
gree of  individual  differentiation  as  the  community's 
powers  of  production  and  services  develop. 


SOCIALIZATION  215 

It  is,  therefore,  important  in  any  discussion  of  in- 
dustrial democracy  to  remember  that  if  it  is  to  work 
at  all  it  must  make  provision  for  this  varying  char- 
acter of  the  human  being.  The  combination  of  the 
minimum  of  services  and  goods  and  the  increase  of 
them  is  not  at  all  inconsistent  with  a  development  in 
the  opportunity  for  choice  and  personal  self-deter- 
mination in  the  acquisition  of  essential  things.  The 
labor  movement  not  only  demands  a  minimum  but 
also  carries  with  it  a  tendency  for  an  equal  wage 
payment.  It  is  perfectly  safe  to  assume  that  this 
equal  wage  payment  could  be  maintained  in  any 
industrial  democracy  and  made  the  basis  upon  which 
the  self-expression  of  the  individual  might  function 
through  purchase  and  choice.  As  an  instance,  we 
furnish  water  for  all  people  in  New  York  City,  and 
yet  a  great  many  homes  have  specially  bottled  water 
for  drinking  purposes.  We  have  public  school 
education,  and  yet  many  people  prefer  private 
schools  or  private  tutoring.  We  provide  books 
through  the  public  library,  and  yet  many  people  love 
to  own  their  own  books.  We  may  well  believe  that 
under  a  system  of  priority  and  a  socialized  mini- 
mum the  individual  would  in  many  cases  find  his 
special  hobby  and  personal  idiosyncracies  unprovid- 
ed for. 

The  wages  which  we  assume  will  be  paid  to  all 
people  will  thus  make  possible  the  satisfaction  of 
that  particular  need  which  the  individual  may  have. 
If  we  assume,  for  instance,  that  a  community  has 
found  it  possible  to  socialize  some  dozen  kinds  of 
different  ties  in  different  colors  and  shapes  but  has 


216  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

not  under  the  conditions  been  able  to  include  in  the 
socialized  product  all  the  different  ties  now  on  sale, 
it  would  then  be  possible  for  the  individual  on  the 
basis  of  demand  and  supply  to  purchase  such  special 
ties  at  cost.  The  neckwear  industry  would,  if  the 
community  had  any  good  judgment  in  the  matter, 
make  possible  the  production  of  that  particular 
article.  Another  instance  of  that  kind  of  possibility 
may  be  assumed  in  books.  Any  community  inter- 
ested in  the  cultural  growth  of  its  members  would 
probably  print  on  a  large  scale  all  the  chief  classics 
and  make  them  available  to  anyone  who  desired  to 
read  them.  However,  it  would  probably  be  quite 
impossible  to  print  all  books  on  that  scale  and  also 
quite  useless,  as  many  are  of  special  character  and 
have  a  small  appeal.  Under  those  conditions  it 
would  be  perfectly  feasible  as  well  as  sensible  to 
print  books  which  would  have  this  special  appeal 
and  make  them  subject  to  purchase  by  the  indi- 
vidual who  cares  for  them. 

Admittedly,  the  suggestions  in  this  chapter  are 
conjectural.  It  is  an  assumption  which  may  have 
no  validity  in  fact  at  any  time  in  the  future.  How- 
ever, it  does  seem  that  with  the  community  develop- 
ing as  it  does  at  present,  with  an  increasing  tenden- 
cy to  socialize  essential  services,  with  the  labor 
movement  insisting  upon  the  minimum  standard  of 
living  and  an  equal  wage  in  practice,  with  an  increas- 
ing sense  of  responsibility  for  the  individual,  with 
a  greater  interest  on  the  part  of  the  community  for 
the  easiest  provision  of  basically  essential  needs, 
with  increasing  powers  of  production,  with  the  elim- 


SOCIALIZATION  217 

ination  of  the  competitive  spirit  and  profit  motive  in 
industry,  and  with  the  substitution  of  the  service 
and  consumer's  utility  motive,  all  these  tendencies 
might  well  lead  to  some  such  development  under  an 
industrial  democracy  as  is  here  indicated.  This 
possibility  would  seem  a  fairly  natural  and  easy 
transition  under  such  conditions  when  carried  over 
from  the  present  into  the  future  by  the  labor 
movement. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

COOPERATION  AND  DISCIPLINE 

REVOLUTIONARY  labor  leaders  predict  the 
control  of  industry  by  the  workers.  This  pre- 
diction has  more  than  usual  cogency.  It  seems  evi- 
dent that  every  union  develops  a  technique 
for  a  constantly  greater  hold  upon  the  in- 
dustry with  which  it  is  connected.  This 
tendency  has  become  in  the  minds  of  many 
people  so  obvious  that  the  question  has  arisen 
whether  the  unions  can  cooperate  better  with  each 
other  than  with  their  employers.  It  is  a  crucial 
question  and  one  which  must  be  answered  so  far  as 
possible  in  terms  of  the  present  activities  and  ten- 
dencies of  the  labor  movement. 

There  has  been  much  friction  in  the  growth  of 
the  labor  movement.  In  fact,  this  characteristic  was 
so  predominant  a  part  in  the  development  of  organ- 
ized labor  that  organized  labor  to  many  has  seemed 
to  be  primarily  a  disruptive  and  subversive  force 
in  the  community.  Struggles  against  the  employ- 
ers, differences  amongst  the  workers  themselves, 
hindrances  of  the  activities  of  other  people,  the  up- 
setting of  habitual  methods,  demands  which  were 

218 


COOPERATION  AND  DISCIPLINE    219 

declared  contrary  to  social  interests,  have  given  the 
labor  movement  a  character  of  apparent  destruc- 
tiveness.  Upon  this  fact  has  been  based  a  great  deal 
of  the  opposition  to  the  labor  movement.  People 
have  said  that  if  the  workers  continue  to  increase 
their  power,  strikes  instead  of  becoming  fewer  will 
become  more  numerous,  organized  greed  and  selfish- 
ness will  become  more  powerful,  and  the  little  peace 
we  still  have  with  us  will  disappear.  It  is  assumed 
that  each  union  will  strive  to  benefit  its  members, 
using  its  powers  of  inconveniencing  the  community 
as  a  club  to  compel  submission.  We  are  told  that 
jurisdictional  disputes,  evidences  of  dishonesty 
amongst  labor  leaders  and  practices  such  as  are  now 
said  to  exist  in  the  New  York  building  industry, 
are  among  the  many  examples  which  have  been  and 
could  be  used  to  argue  this  point.  The  bakers  will 
strike  to  outdo  the  butchers  in  greed  and  irrespon- 
sibility to  the  community,  and  the  butchers  the 
bakers ;  the  electricians  will  threaten  to  cut  off  light, 
and  the  railwaymen  communication.  This  picture 
has  been  painted  in  varied  colors,  but  there  has 
been  general  agreement  that  harmony,  peace  and 
good  will  would  pass  out  from  among  men  and  a 
new  autocracy — the  autocracy  of  labor — would  re- 
place our  democratic  government.  With  this 
replacement  we  are  told  will  disappear  all  security, 
all  freedom,  and  all  the  rights  of  the  individual 
which  have  been  gained  by  humanity  after  long  and 
bitter  struggles. 

It  is  possible  to  formulate  a  fairly  satisfactory, 
even  if  hypothetical,  answer  to  this  question  upon 


220  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

the  basis  of  the  analysis  which  has  already  been 
made.  It  has  been  shown  that  the  labor  movement 
carries  with  itself  a  certain  creative  tendency.  It 
implies  a  socialized  outlook,  a  greater  degree  of  per- 
sonal responsibility,  a  profound  interest  and  knowl- 
edge of  the  economic  life  of  the  community,  and  in- 
tegration of  the  different  individuals  within  their 
group  upon  the  basis  of  a  common  industry  and  the 
achievement  of  cooperation  through  the  district  and 
national  organizations.  It  has  also  been  shown  that 
the  tendency  towards  equality  of  income  is  strongly 
pronounced,  especially  when  we  remember  that  a 
democratic  industrial  organization  has  a  consumer's 
rather  than  a  producer's  economic  outlook. 

A  community  is  assumed  to  have  developed,  in 
which  everybody  is  working.  All  those  who  are 
working  are  organized  around  their  industry. 
Every  person  is  thus  a  member  of  some  well-defined 
industrial  group  which  has  its  special  function  and 
problem,  its  particular  service.  Remuneration  is 
equal  for  all  the  members  both  of  this  and  of  all  the 
other  trades.  The  work  done  by  this  group  is  in 
harmony  with  the  decisions  of  the  community  of 
which  this  one  is  a  member  and  only  an  agent — a 
conscious,  deliberate  and  organized  agent.  This 
particular  trade  is  merely  performing  one  of  the 
many  services  the  community  requires,  and  for 
these  services  it  is  paid  in  kind.  The  problem  in- 
volved is  this;  what  method  of  control  may  we  ex- 
pect the  community  to  exercise  over  this  particular 
group?  What  is  there  about  community  organiza- 
tion which  might  insure  continuity  of  operation? 


COOPERATION  AND  DISCIPLINE    221 

What  defense  has  the  community  as  a  whole  against 
the  individual  group? 

In  other  parts  of  this  book  it  has  been  pointed  out 
that  integration  and  dependence  are  increasing  ele- 
ments of  industrial  civilization;  that  while  any 
group  receives  industrial  self-determination  it  re- 
ceives it  only  as  a  link  in  a  chain — a  chain  of  other 
groups.  There  are  three  outstanding  facts  which 
seem  to  be  a  concomitant  of  the  growth  of  labor  or- 
ganization. The  first  is  the  simple  fact  that  the  in- 
dustry would,  under  the  conditions  described,  serve 
the  community ;  that  a  strike  which  is  at  present  di- 
rected against  the  employer  would  at  that  time  be 
directed  against  the  rest  of  the  workers.  At  present 
the  support  of  workers  going  on  strike  on  the  part 
of  other  workers  is  almost  unanimous.  The  feeling 
is  general  that  the  battle  which  any  particular  indus- 
try may  be  carrying  on  under  present  conditions  rep- 
resents the  interests  of  the  workers  as  a  whole.  That 
fact  would  then  seemingly  have  no  existence.  A 
strike  by  one  group  of  workers  would  be  a  strike 
against  all  the  other  workers.  It  has  already  been 
pointed  out  that  the  remuneration  would  be  approx- 
imately equal  for  all.  In  other  words,  a  strike  on 
the  part  of  the  workers  would  be  for  the  purpose  of 
gaining  something  which  the  rest  of  the  community 
did  not  have.  It  would  be  for  the  purpose  of  estab- 
lishing a  special  privilege,  a  special  right  to  services 
and  goods  which  were  not  shared  by  the  others. 

Public  opinion  would  undoubtedly,  under  such 
conditions,  be  directly  and  immediately  against  the 
strikers.  An  analogue  to-day  is  seen  in  scabbing.  A 


222  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

worker  who  scabs  upon  his  fellows  does  so  to  benefit 
himself  at  the  expense  of  the  rest  of  his  group.  The 
word  "scab"  has  acquired  an  unsavory  imputation 
among  workers.  The  scab  is  excommunicated  by 
the  working  group.  His  activity  is  considered  a 
crime  which  may  not  be  forgiven  and  for  which  no 
excuse  will  atone.  The  scab  is  the  deserter  from  the 
ranks  of  the  workers.  It  cannot  be  doubted  that 
such  would  be  the  attitude  of  a  working  community 
against  any  group  which  held  it  up  to  secure  benefits 
or  special  services  for  itself  as  against  the  rest  of  the 
community  of  organized  workers.  It  must  always 
be  remembered  that  progress,  as  has  already  been 
pointed  out,  would  under  these  conditions  be  prag- 
matic, deliberate  and  purposeful.  Income  and  ser- 
vices would  be  increased  as  the  powers  of  pro- 
duction on  the  part  of  the  community  increased,  and 
such  behavior  would  be  doubly  condemned  as  an  in- 
terference with  the  possibilities  of  growth  and  pro- 
duction in  the  community  and  as  an  infringement 
upon  the  very  possibility  of  greater  income  and 
goods  which  this  group  was  demanding. 

The  second  fact  which  must  not  be  over  looked  is 
the  peculiar  personal  integration  which  such  an  in- 
dustrial organization  involves.  If  we  assume  any 
organization  representing  a  hundred  thousand 
workers,  we  assume  personal  ties  with  all  the  other 
industries  in  the  country.  If  it  is  the  railway  group 
that  makes  this  special  demand,  it  would  find  itself 
making  it  against  its  own  relatives  in  the  other  in- 
dustries. The  railway  men  would  represent  family 
contacts.  They  would  have  fathers  and  mothers, 


COOPERATION  AND  DISCIPLINE    223 

brothers  and  sisters,  cousins,  friends  and  comrades, 
employed  in  the  other  industries  against  which  they 
were  striking. 

A  hundred  thousand  railway  workers  would  have 
connections  in  this  personal  and  intimate  way  with 
the  occupations  of  all  the  life  of  the  community. 
Some  would  have  brothers  in  the  mining  industry, 
others  in  the  civil  service,  while  others  still  would 
have  connections  with  the  shipping  industry,  the 
chemical  and  engineering  trades.  The  striking  indus- 
trial group  would  be  bound  by  threads  of  affection 
and  personal  relation  with  the  very  groups  against 
whom  they  were  undertaking  a  battle  for  greater 
privileges  than  were  enjoyed  by  these  same  relatives 
and  friends.  These  ties  do  not  make  themselves  felt 
at  present  because  the  struggle  has  the  character  of 
being  fought  against  an  employer.  Under  those  con- 
ditions the  struggle  would  be  against  one's  own  kith 
and  kin.  There  is  but  little  doubt,  when  one  consid- 
ers the  sense  of  solidarity  which  binds  the  workers 
together  at  present,  and  the  greater  responsibility, 
the  broader  education  and  the  fuller  knowledge 
which  such  an  organization  implies,  that  an  attempt 
against  the  community  would  be  well-nigh  impos- 
sible on  the  grounds  already  suggested.  There  is, 
however,  one  more  important  consideration  which 
must  be  taken  into  account  in  attempting  to  find 
the  basis  of  cooperation  and  discipline  which  an  in- 
dustrial community  would  possess. 

The  industrial  community  would  be  characterized 
by  the  clear-cut  differentiation  between  industry  and 
industry.  The  bakers,  weavers,  miners,  electricians, 


224  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

would  have  clearly  marked  responsibilities  and  func- 
tions. The  community  would  depend  upon  them 
and  they  would  in  turn  depend  upon  the  community. 
The  very  facts  which  would  make  it  possible  for  any 
group  to  withdraw  its  cooperative  function  would 
make  it  possible  for  the  rest  of  the  community  to 
excommunicate  the  group  that  withdrew.  Such  ex- 
communication would  be  fatal.  There  is  no  group 
which  can  stand  alone,  no  matter  how  important  its 
service  seems  to  the  community.  The  railway  men 
and  the  electricians  are  very  strongly  entrenched, 
but  the  rest  of  the  community  is  more  powerful  still. 
If  the  electrician  refused  to  continue  serving  the 
community,  it  could  under  these  conditions  immedi- 
ately refuse  to  serve  the  workers  who  withdrew 
from  the  cooperative  life  of  the  whole.  If  the  rail- 
way workers  stopped  work,  the  bakers,  the  milk- 
men, the  doctor,  the  druggist,  the  electrician,  every 
link  in  the  chain  upon  which  the  individual  depends 
could  under  such  conditions  immediately  refuse  to 
serve  them.  The  economic  life  of  the  community 
is  so  interlocked,  so  interdependent  are  men  to-day, 
that  it  would  be  impossible  to  resist  this  kind  of 
excommunication.  Excommunication  would  mean 
death. 

This1  fact  and  its  possibilities  of  enforcement 
would  make  its  use  unnecessary.  The  social  press- 
ure of  the  group  would  make  the  duty  of  coopera- 
tion a  social  law.  We  have  seen  how  strong  social 
pressure  can  be.  During  the  war  individuals  were 
gradually  transformed  into  accepting  the  dominant 
opinion  and  its  ideals  as  their  own.  They  did  it  with- 


COOPERATION  AND  DISCIPLINE    225 

out  themselves  being  conscious  of  the  fact  or  even 
of  the  process.  The  need  for  cooperation,  the  power 
of  excommunication,  the  social  and  personal  ties, 
the  greater  sense  of  responsibility,  the  greater  equal- 
ity of  income,  the  more  positive  interest  in  the  af- 
fairs of  the  community  which  would  result  from 
greater  responsibility,  the  fuller  knowledge,  and  the 
fact  that  men  would  be  able  to  change  their  stand- 
ards of  life  as  the  powers  of  production  of  the  com- 
munity made  such  changes  possible,  would  all  com- 
bine to  make  the  strike  a  needless  as  well  as  an 
impossible  instrument. 

It  seems  hard  to  conceive  at  present  a  time  when 
the  strike  should  be  outlawed  by  the  working  class 
community,  but  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  the 
strike  is  a  weapon  of  war  and  an  instrument  of  self- 
defense,  a  means  of  self-assertion  when  no  other  is 
available.  The  strike  is  evidence  of  the  weakness 
of  the  workers,  of  their  being  in  a  subordinate  po- 
sition. Mastery  by  the  workers  would  make  the 
strike  unnecessary — a  useless  and  purposeless  in- 
strument. If  the  workers  achieve  mastery  and  self- 
direction — as  every  important  tendency  of  the  labor 
movement  seems  to  indicate — then  the  strike  will 
go  its  way  like  so  many  other  instruments  once 
useful  but  now  discarded.  Excommunication  will 
come  into  its  own  and  will  carry  a  weight  and  power 
which  it  has  never  had  even  in  the  best  day  of  its  use 
as  a  religious  weapon,  and  its  very  power  will  make 
its  use  unnecessary.  Cooperation  thus  implies  its 
own  discipline.  Just  as  the  capitalist  system  with 
its  competitive  organization  gave  the  strike  its  use 


226  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

and  purpose,  its  values  and  power,  so  will  cooper- 
ation probably  give  responsibility  and  sense  of  co- 
operative unity  its  place  as  an  instrument  of  control. 
The  gregarious  character  of  the  human  being  would 
transmute  the  whole  process  into  an  ethical  concept. 
This  process  of  control  will  come  naturally  to  the 
labor  movement.  It  is  the  method  at  present  em- 
ployed. A  worker  who  does  not  carry  out  the  im- 
plications of  his  organization  is  punished  by 
expulsion.  This  is  also  true  of  a  local  union.  It 
has  already  become  a  matter  of  serious  concern  to 
a  worker  or  a  group  of  workers  to  be  denied  the 
privileges  of  labor  union  membership.  The  union 
has  at  present  considerable  value.  How  much  more 
perfect  would  all  this  be  under  conditions  where  all 
workers  were  organized  and  where  organization, 
like  present-day  citizenship,  was  as  natural  as  life  '$- 
self. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

PRODUCER  AND  CONSUMER 

THE  economic  literature  of  the  more  "classical" 
school  has  carried  with  it  a  distinction  between 
the  consumer  and  producer.  This  distinction  rests 
on  the  supposed  natural  contradiction  between  a 
man's  interest  as  a  consumer  and  as  a 
producer.  The  Guild  Socialists  are  the 
more  recent  contributors  to  the  discussion 
with  their  attempt  to  compromise  the  differ- 
ences between  the  State  Socialists  and  the  Syn- 
dicalists. The  guildsmen  assume  that  the  State,  as 
it  is  at  present  organized,  may  be  said  to  represent 
the  needs  of  the  community  as  consumers.  The 
"Marxian"  Socialists,  in  their  demand  for  the  con- 
trol by  the  State  of  all  the  important  industries  on  the 
community,  based  their  chief  argument  on  the 
ground  that  these  industries  were  at  present  run  for 
profit  and  not  in  the  interest  of  the  consumer.  A 
Socialist  State,  they  argued,  would  have  no  other  in- 
terests than  those  of  the  consumer,  and  would, 
therefore,  perform  the  service  of  the  capitalist  with 
the  consumer's  interest  in  view.  This  position  of 
the  Socialist  of  the  older  type  was  challenged  by  the 

227 


228  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

Syndicalist,  who,  for  various  reasons,  became  very 
suspicious  of  the  State  and  therefore  insisted  that 
the  interests  of  the  producer  were  primary  and  de- 
veloped a  demand  for  a  particularistic  control  of 
industry  by  the  workers.  This  is  a  very  bare 
statement  of  the  problem,  and  is  very  much  over- 
simplified. It  is,  however,  sufficient  for  the  purpose 
of  this  chapter,  which  is  concerned  with  an  exam- 
ination of  the  attempted  harmonizing  of  differences 
between  the  State  Socialists  and  the  Syndicalists  on 
the  part  of  the  Guild  Socialist. 

The  Guild  Socialists  postulate  the  organization  of 
the  whole  community  of  workers  into  their  respect- 
ive functional  groups.  Each  industry  in  the  com- 
munity is  supposed  to  be  organized,  and  each  worker 
in  whatever  industry  is  expected  to  belong  to  his 
special  industrial  organization.  It  is  also  assumed 
that  the  capitalist  will  be  replaced  by  the  com- 
munity and  that  democracy  in  industry  will  replace 
present-day  organization.  The  structure  through 
which  this  democratic  community  will  govern  itself 
is  assumed  will  be  of  a  double  character.  All  the 
workers  in  the  community  will  be  represented  in  an 
industrial  parliament,  and  the  community  in  its 
capacity  as  a  consumer  will  be  represented  in  a 
national  parliament  elected  on  the  basis  of  geo- 
graphic districts  rather  than  industrial  organizations. 
In  the  first,  the  individual  will  vote  as  a  worker;  in 
the  second,  as  a  citizen.  In  the  first,  he  will  be 
represented  as  a  producer;  in  the  second,  as  a  con- 
sumer. 

The  producers'  congress,  it  is  assumed,  will  be 


PRODUCER  AND  CONSUMER        229 

concerned  with  the  more  technical  aspects  of  indus- 
trial life,  and  the  second  will  be  busy  with  the  inter- 
ests of  the  consumer.  Such  things  as  price,  wages, 
international  relations  and  amount  of  production 
would,  according  to  the  Guild  Socialists,  be  the  pro- 
per sphere  of  the  the  consumer's  congress,  while  the 
conditions  of  labor,  apprenticeship  and  technical 
problems  of  organization  and  cooperation  would 
naturally  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  producer's  or- 
ganization. All  matters  of  vital  policy  would 
always  be  referred  to  the  consumers  for  ultimate 
decision. 

It  is  thus  assumed,  as  a  basis  of  political  struc- 
ture and  policy,  that  there  is  a  division  in  man  be- 
tween himself  as  producer  and  himself  as  consumer, 
that  this  division  can  be  harmonized  by  a  political 
machine  in  which  each  half  will  function  in  its  sepa- 
rate interests.  What  is  important  to  remember  is 
that  the  Guild  Socialists  take  it  as  a  matter  of  course 
that  the  future  will  see  an  industrial  community  in 
which  all  able-bodied  members  of  the  community 
will  participate  as  producers,  but  will  not  be  able  to 
harmonize  their  interests  without  dividing  their 
functional  and  consumers'  needs  for  purposes  of 
political  manipulation.  They  also  believe  that  the 
differences  can  be  compromised  and  harmony 
achieved  by  having  a  double  representative  system 
where  each  separate  interest  will  be  fully  and  with 
proper  partisanship  defended  against  the  other. 

The  assumptions  of  a  difference  between  the  pro- 
ducer and  the  consumer  are  justifiable  under  cer- 
tain very  definite  conditions  and  only  under  these. 


230  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

After  all  that  is  said,  a  man  is  a  man  whom  you  can 
in  theory  but  not  in  fact  divide  against  himself. 
What  his  interests  are  as  a  worker,  they  are  as  a 
consumer  when  he  is  free  to  act  as  a  worker  and  as  a 
consumer.  If  man  produced  for  purposes  of  con- 
sumption rather  than  for  sale,  and  consumption  was 
the  basis  of  further  enjoyable  production,  it  would 
be  hard  to  distinguish  between  them.  The  Indian 
who  hunts  his  bison  with  great  pleasure  and  eats  it 
with  avidity  cannot  be  said  to  have  separate  inter- 
ests as  a  producer  and  as  a  consumer.  It  is  only 
when  elements  have  been  introduced  into  his  work 
which  make  it  a  non-personal,  non-creative  thing, 
that  the  distinction  arises.  It  is  when  work  has 
become  forced  drudgery  and  when  that  work  is 
remunerated  by  a  wage  in  a  competitive  world  that 
his  interest  as  a  producer  and  consumer  may  be  said 
to  be  different.  These  differences  of  interest  be- 
come prominent  only  when : 

1.  The  worker  is  a  hired  person  who  does  not 
take  an  interest  in  his  work,  when  all  creative  and 
artistic  interest  is  lacking. 

2.  When  all  consumers  are  not  producers ;  when 
in   fact,  the  most  extravagant  consumers  do  not 
participate  in  the  labor  of  production,  thus  increas- 
ing the  burden  of  the  worker  and  diverting  his 
product  to  non-useful  channels. 

3.  When  the  incomes  of  the  producer  and  the 
non-producing  consumer  are  different,  making  him 
who  toils  a  lower  power  in  the  market  than  he  who 
idles. 

4.  When  the  producer  and  consumer  are  sepa- 


rated  by  a  profit-making  middleman;  when  between 
the  work  a  man  does  and  the  purchase  he  makes 
there  stands  a  profiteering  middleman  who  is  inter- 
ested in  paying  as  little  as  possible  for  the  first  and 
exacting  as  much  as  possible  for  the  second. 

5.  When  the  producer  has  no  consumer's  inter- 
ests in  the  product  he  works  at ;  when  he  is  ignorant 
both  of  its  purpose  or  use  and  is  conscious  of  the 
fact  that  what  he  makes  is  an  alien  thing  for  him, 
something  the  disposal  of  which  lies  outside  of  his 
powers  of  determination. 

It  is  assumed  that  under  Guild  Socialism  those 
conditions  will  not  obtain.  This  is  true  under  pres- 
ent conditions  when  labor  is  for  hire  and  business 
is  for  profit.  Under  Guild  Socialism  industrial 
democracy  would  be  a  fact.  That  would  mean  a 
reversal  of  all  the  more  important  conditions  sug- 
gested above  as  being  the  basic  cause  for  the  dif- 
ference between  the  worker  and  the  consumer  as  a 
single  person. 

When  capitalism  is  replaced  by  industrial  de- 
mocracy, then : 

1.  There  will  be  no  profit-making  middleman 
between  the  producer  and  the  consumer.     Produc- 
tion will  be  for  use  and  not  for  profit.     The  pro- 
ducer as  such  will  have  a  consumer's  interest  in  the 
product  of  his  labor  because  he  will  have  a  voice  in 
determining  the  process  and  character  of  the  pro- 
duction— something  that  is  lacking  at  present. 

2.  All  consumers,  within  certain  natural  limita- 
tions, will  be  producers.     There  will  thus  cease  to 
be  the  distinction  between  the  parasitic  consumer 


232  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

who  lives  by  the  labor  of  others  and  the  man  who 
toils. 

3.  All   producers,   under   democratic   organiza- 
tion, will  more  than  is  possible  under  present  condi- 
tions have  a  creative  and  artistic  interest  in  their 
work.     Education  in  industry,  democratic  manage- 
ment,  group  control  and   activity  will   develop   a 
creative  interest  in  the  productive  activity  of  men 
employed  in  industry. 

4.  When  the  incomes  of  producer  and  consumer 
are  assumed  to  be  on  a  common  level,  they  will  not 
divide  themselves  into  wasters  and  spenders  on  one 
hand  and  meager  bread  earning  laborers  on  the 
other. 

5.  When  sense  of  ownership  and  community  of 
interest  follow  the  present  restriction  of  property- 
control  in  the  community,  a  greater  sense  of  freedom 
and  interest  in  the  work  in  hand  will  be  possible. 

6.  When  education  in  industry  has  given  the 
worker  a  scientific  interest  in  his  work,  he  will  be 
capable  of  the  ordinary  scientific  interest  and  curi- 
osity which  is  so  powerful  a  motive  with  the  scientist. 
The  possible  spread  of  this   feeling  and   interest 
through    education,    cooperation,    and    its    conse- 
quences in  industry  can  hardly  be  overestimated. 

These  changes  make  the  current  distinction  be- 
tween the  producer  and  the  consumer  invalid  for  a 
democratic  industrial  organization.  They,  at 
least,  make  a  problem  so  different  that  it  would  be 
desirable  to  await  the  development  of  the  industrial 
democracy  postulated  by  the  Guild  Socialist  before 
we  take  it  for  granted  that  it  is  essential  to  build  a 


PRODUCER  AND  CONSUMER       233 

structure  to  meet  this  hypothetical  difference  of 
interest  in  political  expression.  Certainly  the  most 
obvious  differences  at  present  prominent  would  tend 
to  disappear  with  the  suggested  changes  in  industrial 
structure.  However,  even  if  we  agree  that  a 
division  such  as  the  Guild  Socialists  insist  upon 
exists  between  a  man's  interests  as  a  producer  and  a 
consumer,  and  that  these  interests  are  so  persistent 
and  ingrained  that  they  cannot  be  obliterated  by 
time  or  change  in  conditions  and  that  they  must 
always  be  reckoned  with  as  a  constant  and  trouble- 
some factor,  it  is  suggested  that  their  proposed 
political  structure  does  not  meet  the  difficulty  they 
postulate.  Separate  houses  for  consumer  and  pro- 
ducer would  be  unnecessary  encumbrances,  and  only 
duplicate  effort.  Every  worker  would  be  organized 
under  the  Guild  Socialist  scheme.  Every  voter 
would  be  a  worker.  In  the  actual  voting,  each  man 
would  vote  in  each  case  both  as  consumer  and  as  pro- 
ducer. He  would  be  both,  and  it  is  just  as  useless 
to  try  to  separate  him  as  it  is  to  divide  water  into  its 
separate  elements  and  use  it  as  water  at  the  same 
time. 

The  two  houses  would  each  be  elected  to  repre- 
sent a  separate  interest — one  the  consumer's  and  the 
other  the  producers.  All  the  producers,  however, 
would  live  in  the  same  place;  they  would  in  fact 
represent  the  territorial  unit  of  which  the  com- 
munity was  made  up.  The  representative  in  the 
consumer's  congress  would  be  a  worker  and  would 
naturally  represent,  even  if  unconsciously,  his  inter- 
ests as  producer  (if  he  had  separate  interests  as 


234  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

such),  and  would  thus  defeat  the  original  purpose  of 
his  choice.  Nor  can  it  be  assumed  that  the  con- 
sumer's congress  will  represent  only  one  group  in 
the  community,  say  the  electrician.  In  all  proba- 
bility it  would  include  among  its  representatives  all 
of  the  important  industries.  Bakers,  miners  and 
teachers  by  profession  as  well  as  others  would  find 
themselves  elected  to  this  congress.  The  consum- 
er's congress  then  would  also  in  a  very  large  measure 
be  a  representation  of  the  industries  and  the  pro- 
ducers, unless  of  course  it  were  assumed  that  a 
separate  group  of  special  consumers  or  represen- 
tatives can  be  maintained  who  will  not  have  the 
producer's  interests.  This  is  a  patent  absurdity  in 
a  community  for  which  it  is  postulated  that  the 
basic  equality  of  the  whole  group  will  lie  in  the  fact 
that  each  and  every  one  will  be  a  participant  in 
some  one  of  the  many  creative  enterprises  required 
to  keep  society  going. 

There  is,  however,  another  and  equally  damaging 
criticism  that  one  must  raise  in  discussing  the  pro- 
posal for  a  separate  representation  of  consumer 
and  producer;  that  as  a  matter  of  fact  the  so- 
called  producers'  congress  is  really  a  grouping  of 
men  and  women  around  their  territorial  as  well  as 
around  their  consumptive  interests.  It  is  obvious 
that  a  congress  representing  all  of  the  productive 
efforts  and  undertakings  of  the  community  would, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  tend  to  represent  that  com- 
munity territorially.  All  men  have  to  live  some- 
where, and  they  cannot  live  in  one  place.  The  con- 
gress would  be  made  up  of  bakers,  shoemakers,  rail- 


PRODUCER  AND  CONSUMER        235 

road  workers,  miners,  teachers  and  other  participants 
in  the  manifold  interests  of  the  community.  The 
baker  might,  when  addressing  the  assembly,  speak 
as  a  producer  having  narrow  producer's  interests, 
but  he  would  address  himself  to  an  assembly  of 
consumers,  of  users  of  bread.  He  would  not  be 
speaking  to  producers  of  bread  but  to  men  and 
women  who  use  his  product,  and  the  consuming  in- 
terests of  the  community  would  thus  find  full  and 
adequate  representation  in  the  congress  of  so-called 
producers.  In  fact,  a  congress  of  industrial  repre- 
sentatives who  are  individually  producers  is  a  con- 
gress of  men  who  are  collectively  consumers  of  the 
product  of  this  and  that  individual.  The  consumer's 
interests  would  thus  have  a  preponderant  representa- 
tion— equal  in  fact  to  any  consumer's  congress  that 
could  be  organized  under  the  conditions.  What 
holds  true  of  the  baker  is  true  of  the  butcher,  the 
teacher,  the  doctor,  the  miner,  and  of  any  other  re- 
presentatives of  the  guild.  The  butcher  would 
address  himself  to  a  community  of  consumers  of 
meat,  and  so  on  with  all  the  others. 

The  problem  of  a  possible  conspiracy  on  the  part 
of  one  or  more  powerful  producing  groups  to  hold 
up  the  rest  of  the  community  if  they  were 
organized  as  producers  is  no  real  argument 
for  a  consumer's  congress,  for  the  con- 
sumer's congress  could  not  be  any  more 
effective  than  the  producer's  congress  against 
a  really  powerful  and  solid  functional  organization, 
and  it  could  do  nothing  that  the  producer's  con- 
gress could  not  do  under  the  same  conditions.  In 


236  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

fact,  it  would  probably  be  able  to  do  less  rather  than 
more.  This,  however,  is  a  question  of  discipline 
and  cooperation  which  we  discuss  in  another  chap- 
ter. x 

In  fact,  it  seems  that  the  attempt  to  carry  a  double 
representative  system  into  an  industrial  community 
is  really  an  unconscious  translation  of  current 
methods  into  a  situation  where  they  have  little  or  no 
significance.  It  is  carrying  over  a  traditional 
method  because  it  is  traditional  rather  than  because 
it  has  proved  either  effective  or  useful.  G.  D.  H. 
Cole's  use  of  the  United  States  as  an  analogy  of  the 
value  of  such  a  system  of  checks  and  balances  is  not 
convincing.  It  has,  in  fact,  been  the  opposite  of 
useful.  There  is  another  objection  to  the  system 
of  consumer's  representation,  and  that  is  that  it  lends 
itself  to  greater  abuse  and  manipulation  than  seems 
likely  to  occur  under  functional  organization. 

The  producer's  interests  are  single;  they  are  con- 
stant; they  are  immediate  and  personal.  A  man 
working  on  a  job  and  doing  something  definite  ac- 
quires a  knowledge  of  its  problems,  needs,  capaci- 
ties, interests  and  other  peculiarities  and  specialities 
which  the  consumer  seems  hopeless  to  achieve  in 
anything  like  so  effective  a  degree.  The  consumers' 
interests  vary;  they  are  numerous;  they  do  not  in- 
volve a  personal  and  a  constant  association,  and 
they  are  not  personal  in  the  sense  in  which  produc- 
tive and  creative  effort  is.  The  other  point  that 
might  be  raised  about  the  consumer  and  the  trades 
which  are  directly  subservient  to  immediate  con- 

1  See  Chapter  16. 


PRODUCER  AND  CONSUMER        237 

sumption — such  things  as  education,  medicine,  hos- 
pitals, music,  acting,  and  all  directly  consumptive 
activities  on  the  part  of  specialized  groups — is 
whether  they  could  be  classed  as  functionally  pro- 
ductive and  as  possible  of  representation  in  a 
producer's  congress.  Just  as  teachers  are  now 
members  of  the  trade  union  movement,  so  would 
they  best  be  represented  in  a  producer's  congress  of 
the  future.  This  but  adds  another  argument  for  a 
single  congress.  Such  a  congress  would  be  a  com- 
plete synthesis  of  the  community.  It  would  in- 
clude its  territorial  representation,  its  consumers' 
interests,  its  productive  interests,  and  also  those 
which  are  directly  concerned  with  the  production 
of  what  are  called  immediate  consumer's  goods. 


CHAPTER  XX 

LABOR  AND  EDUCATION 

THE  education  of  labor  for  mastery  and  control 
of  the  economic  forces  of  the  community — for 
conscious  control — is,  next  to  organization,  the  most 
important  problem  that  labor  has  to  face.  As  has 
already  been  pointed  out,  the  very  process  of  organ- 
ization is  education,  but  this  education,  this  disci- 
pline, this  growth  of  the  powers  of  cooperation 
which  organization  implies  is  chiefly  an  education 
in  morals,  in  responsibility,  in  character  and  in  initi- 
ative. While  it  is  hard  to  overestimate  the  impor- 
tance of  this  aspect  of  the  education  of  labor,  it  is 
obviously  not  all  that  is  needed.  Without  this  train- 
ing industrial  democracy  would  be  impossible,  but 
along  with  it  we  must  still  have  a  conscious  and  de- 
liberate preparation  for  the  handling  of  the  complex 
and  interwoven  mechanism  of  our  industrial  sys- 
tem. This  phase  of  the  education  of  labor,  the  de- 
liberate preparation  for  manipulation  of  industry  by 
the  workers,  has  strangely  been  overlooked  by  most 
of  those  who  have  been  the  chief  exponents  of  the 
democratic  control  of  industry,  and  yet  without  it 
any  real  industrial  democracy  must  remain  an  irri- 
descent  dream. 

238 


LABOR  AND  EDUCATION  239 

When  the  history  of  the  last  hundred  years  is 
written  in  terms  of  its  great  psychical  and  intellec- 
tual changes — a  history  that  must  still  wait  for  a 
better  perspective  than  is  afforded  by  the  present 
moment — it  will  give  a  prime  place  to  the  story  of 
the  socialist  movement,  for,  truly  speaking,  the  so- 
cialist movement  has  been  an  educational  one,  at 
least  more  of  an  educational  phenomenon  than  any- 
thing else.  Its  real  fruits  up  to  date  have  been 
garnered  in  the  crystallized  discontent,  the  general 
spread  of  common  ideals  of  social  reconstruction, 
in  the  international  consciousness  of  its  organized 
bodies,  and  in  the  fact  that  the  same  thoughts,  the 
same  motives,  the  same  general  perspective  and  out- 
look are  characteristic  of  millions  of  men  the  world 
over.  It  is  a  remarkable  achievement.  It  has  made 
more  rapid  progress  among  men  than  have  the  ideals 
of  political  democracy  and  constitutional  govern- 
ment. It  contains  to-day  more  throbbing  vitalized 
force  than  any  movement  has  probably  contained 
at  any  time  before  this,  for  it  is  universal  in  its 
appeal  and  universal  in  its  touch.  All  of  this 
growth  is  concentrated  in  a  period  of  some  seventy 
years  of  conscious  organization  and  propaganda,  an 
organization  and  propaganda  carried  on  against  in- 
numerable obstacles— obstacles  of  ignorance,  of 
prejudice,  of  persecution  and  falsification.  This 
tremendous  growth  of  a  common  ideal  embracing  so 
many  varied  races,  religions,  nations,  and  over  so 
wide  a  spread  of  earth  has  scarcely  been  exceed- 
ed by  any  movement  in  so  short  a  period  of  time. 

The  reasons  for  this  growth  are  numerous,  but 


240  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

there  are  two  outstanding  psychological  features  of 
it  which  contributed  to  its  appeal.  The  first  is  its 
negative  character.  The  socialist  movement  as  an 
educational  force  has  had  positive  consequences  in 
organization  and  in  emotion,  but  its  education  as 
such  was  negative.  It  was  primarily  against  some- 
thing. It  was  against  capitalism.  This  simplified 
the  problem  of  its  educational  work.  The  capitalist 
system,  or  older  systems  still  general  in  some  parts 
of  the  globe,  were  by  and  large  things  not  pleasant 
to  the  heart  of  the  common  men  of  the  community 
— the  poor,  the  overburdened.  It  was  just  because 
it  emphasized  the  evils  of  the  world  that  it  appealed 
so  generally  to  the  men  whose  lives  were  dominated 
and  circumscribed  by  a  tangible  evil  of  immediate 
concern.  It  is  in  this  phase  of  its  education  that  the 
socialist  movement  secured  the  greatest  support,  the 
greatest  unanimity  and  most  of  its  loyalty  as  a 
movement  of  protest. 

The  educational  work  of  the  socialist  and  radi- 
cal movement  was  primarily  but  not  exclusively 
negative.  Included  in  the  criticism  of  capitalism 
was  the  demand  for  a  change  and  a  prediction 
of  a  better  and  happier  world  to  follow  upon 
its  destruction.  This  positive,  creative  side  of 
the  socialist  educational  movement,  this  demand  for 
the  revolution  and  the  cooperative  commonwealth, 
has  largely  been  of  a  vague  and  hazy  kind.  What 
capitalism  was  seemed  easy  and  obvious  enough. 
What  the  cooperative  commonwealth  would  be,  how 
it  was  to  be  achieved,  the  kind  of  social  organization 
it  would  imply,  and  the  particular  responsibilities 


LABOR  AND  EDUCATION  241 

it  would  impose,  was  harder  to  describe.  This  very 
difficulty  of  particularization  served  a  useful  pur- 
pose in  the  propaganda.  The  future  being  beyond 
immediate  control  and  specification  lent  itself  to 
facile  artistry  and  coloring.  It  became  easy,  and  as 
a  means  of  propaganda,  effective  and  useful  to  paint 
the  future  in  rosy  colors.  To  imagine  a  heaven 
upon  earth  and  to  forecast  its  appearance  immedi- 
ately upon  the  destruction  of  capitalism  was  prob- 
ably inevitable. 

This  description  is  not  meant  as  a  disparagement 
of  the  fact ;  it  is  simply  a  statement  of  it.  The  very 
conditions  under  which  the  propaganda- work  was 
carried  on  made  this  inevitable,  and  the  hard- 
worked  and  under-educated  masses  seized  upon  the 
prospect  of  a  future  that  would  be  harmonious, 
Utopian  and  ideal  as  a  compensating  reaction  to  the 
world  in  which  they  found  themselves,  a  world 
where  the  antithesis  of  all  their  ideals  was  the  ac- 
tual fact.  I  have  used  the  word  Utopian  because  the 
nature  of  the  preparation  and  responsibility  implied 
in  the  control  of  modern  industrial  activity  did  not 
enter  into  their  calculations. 

In  general,  this  type  of  education  is  still  with  us. 
The  labor  movement,  conservative  or  radical,  as 
well  as  the  socialist  movement,  is  occupied  chiefly 
with  critical  propaganda.  The  educational  activity 
still  mainly  consists  of  a  description  of  the  evils  of 
capitalism,  of  the  inadequacies  of  the  present  re- 
gime, the  callousness  of  the  politician,  and  the 
heartlessness  of  large  business.  All  of  this  is  true 
and  more  than  true,  but  it  is  not  sufficient.  It  does 


242  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

serve  the  great  purpose  of  crystallizing  discontent, 
of  making  it  an  effective  medium  of  social  protest. 
The  purpose,  however,  of  protest  is  only  the  lesser 
half  of  the  obligation  imposed  upon  the  labor  move- 
ment in  its  demand  for  social  change.  No  worker 
is  necessarily  better  equipped  to  handle  the  problems 
of  his  particular  industry  just  because  he  holds  rad- 
ical views.  No  amount  of  lecturing  on  radical  liter- 
ature, on  price,  value  and  profit,  nor  any  amount  of 
criticism  of  the  policies  of  the  government,  makes  a 
worker  better  equipped  actually  to  participate  in 
efficient  democratic  functioning  in  an  industry  so 
technical,  so  many-sided,  as,  for  instance,  the  steel 
industry.  He  may  have  learned  to  dislike  the  pres- 
ent scheme  of  things  bitterly,  but  he  has  not  ac- 
quired the  process  of  control,  direction  and  cooper- 
tion  essential  to  the  continuance  and  smooth  work- 
ings of  such  an  industry. 

Modern  industrial  organization  is  not  the  simple 
craft  system  of  the  days  before  the  industrial  revo- 
lution, when  a  single  worker  possessed  all  of  the 
required  skill  essential  for  the  production  of  any 
one  article.  Production  is,  under  present  condi- 
tions, divided  and  subdivided  into  innumerable  pro- 
cesses, involving  the  cooperation  of  many  scores  or 
hundreds  of  workers.  Included  in  this  method  of 
production  are  many  different  degrees  of  skill  and 
knowledge,  going  up  the  scale  from  the  simplest 
type  of  manual  labor  to  the  most  skilled  and  trained 
professional  expert. 

Every  industry  of  even  minor  character  includes 
this  gradation  and  complexity.  The  use  of  the 


LABOR  AND  EDUCATION  243 

engineer,  the  chemist  or  the  draftsman  goes  hand 
in  hand  with  the  dependence  upon  the  simple  func- 
tion of  the  common  laborer.  The  worker  as  such 
stands  outside  of  the  scheme  of  production  spirit- 
ually. He  knows  little  or  nothing  about  the  indus- 
try as  a  whole.  He  is  a  tool  directed  and  controlled 
rather  than  a  participant  controlling  and  directing. 
He  is  often  ignorant  of  the  significance  of  his 
function.  He  knows  little  or  nothing  about  the 
scientific  problems  or  character  of  his  work;  he 
knows  little  of  its  social  value,  nor  is  he  better 
equipped  regarding  the  nature  of  the  industry  when 
viewed  as  a  human  organization.  He  generally  does 
not  know  the  number  of  trades  in  the  industry,  their 
relation,  their  dependence.  He  knows  little  about 
the  internal  organization,  the  nature  of  the  market, 
the  dependence  upon  the  arts  which  his  particular 
industry  may  display.  This  is  also  true  in  regard  to 
its  external  relations  and  dependencies,  the  indus- 
tries upon  which  it  feeds  and  upon  which  it  depends. 
All  of  these  matters  pertaining  to  control,  manipu- 
lation and  direction  of  the  industry  are  foreign  to 
him.  He  evaluates  his  work  in  terms  of  the  pay  en- 
velope. His  relation  to  it  is  impersonal.  His 
pleasures,  his  play,  his  creative  interest  and  instinct 
find  their  outlet  chiefly  in  things  remote  from  the 
actual  work  which  generally  makes  him  significant 
as  a  member  of  the  working  community.  When  it  is 
remembered  that  he  gives  the  best  hours  of  the  day 
and  the  best  years  of  his  life  to  his  work,  the  lack  of 
joy  or  interest,  of  creative  participation  in  it,  make  the 
spiritual  cost  of  modern  industrial  activity  appalling. 


244  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

From  the  viewpoint  of  industrial  democracy,  this 
fact  is  of  the  greatest  importance,  for  it  is  these  in- 
dustries which  make  such  a  heavy  demand  upon  the 
time  and  strength  of  the  worker,  yet  give  so  little 
creative  outlet.  Democracy  in  industry  means  de- 
liberate, conscious,  intelligent  and  efficient  control 
and  direction  by  those  who  are  actually  concerned 
with  it  as  working  members  thereof.  And  this  con- 
trol— control  efficiently  and  successfully  carried  out 
on  the  basis  of  the  present  working  class  knowledge 
— might  prove  a  very  inefficient  and  precarious 
undertaking.  In  such  an  industrial  community  as 
the  United  States  it  might  even  prove  tragic.  The 
lesson  of  the  Russian  revolution  in  this  matter  must 
not  be  overlooked.  It  was  the  lack  of  working-class 
technical  appreciation,  of  working-class  industrial 
knowledge,  of  working-class  cooperation  in  indus- 
try, that  proved  its  greatest  handicap  in  the  early 
days.  I  do  not  want  to  press  this  point  of  compari- 
son too  far,  for  conditions  here  are  very  different, 
but  it  is  doubtful  whether  the  difference  is  in  our 
favor.  Industrial  democracy  requires  organization. 
Next  to  organization,  it  must  have  education  about 
industry  by  those  who  are  to  manipulate  it  on  a  dem- 
ocratic basis. 

This  is  the  problem  of  working-class  education 
that  radicals  and  socialists  who  have  talked  about 
industrial  democracy  have  generally  neglected,  and 
yet  this  is  the  problem  of  working-class  education. 
The  union  is  the  logical  center  of  this  education. 
Each  union  (the  industrial  union,  the  synthesis,  the 
unity  of  an  industry)  ought  to  provide  for  the  edu- 


LABOR  AND  EDUCATION  245 

cation  of  its  workers  in  the  problems,  character, 
relationships  and  functions  of  the  industry.  Large 
international  unions  are  beginning  the  organization 
of  departments  concerned  with  problems  of  the  gen- 
eral industry  in  all  of  its  phases  and  equipped  to 
spread  this  knowledge  among  the  workers.  Each 
local  union  ought  to  do  that  for  its  locality,  and 
each  shop  for  the  particular  problems,  activities  and 
functions  of  its  own  shop.  This  education  should 
include  all  of  the  problems  of  the  industry.  Where 
required,  this  work  could,  on  account  of  its  com- 
plexity, be  divided  up  among  different  committees. 
The  primary  aim  of  this  education  should  be  to 
make  each  worker  in  the  industry  conscious  of  the 
more  general  character  and  relationships  of  the  in- 
dustry, and  the  part  he  plays  in  it.  Without  some 
such  preparation,  industrial  democracy  in  practice 
will  come  very  difficult  indeed.  It  is  not  suggested 
that  the  worker  be  taught  different  or  better-paying 
trades,  but  that  he  can  be  prepared  to  participate  in 
the  direction  of  the  industry  as  an  intelligent  cooper- 
ating unit  who  understands  what  he  is  about  and 
who  can  visualize  the  industry  as  a  whole;  the  aim 
being,  let  me  repeat,  to  make  it  possible  for  the 
workers  in  any  given  plant  to  meet  together  and  dis- 
cuss the  problems — mechanical,  technical,  economic 
and  social — with  intelligence  and  mutual  under- 
standing. The  word  "workers"  is  used  of  course 
in  its  widest  sense  to  include  both  the  expert  and  the 
common  laborer — all  who  are  actually  required  in 
the  proper  and  efficient  manipulation  of  that  indus- 
try. Such  education  would  lend  itself  to  cultural 


246  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

and  scientific  interests,  so  that  the  worker  would  not 
have  to  go  outside  of  his  industry  for  the  purpose 
of  attaining  a  "smattering"  of  culture;  and  it  would 
certainly  equal  in  intrinsic  value  most  of  the  so- 
called  "cultural  courses"  generally  offered  to  work- 
ers in  socialist  schools. 

This  cultural  aspect  of  education  in  industry  is 
very  important.  An  industry,  from  the  point  of 
view  of  industrial  democracy,  is  not  only  a  mechan- 
ical unit  but  a  spiritual  one  as  well.  It  is  not  only 
an  organization  of  machinery  for  the  purpose  of 
turning  out  a  given  amount  of  material  goods  but 
is  an  assemblage  of  machinery  about  which  are  col- 
lected a  large  group  of  human  beings  who  have 
spiritual,  intellectual  and  social  capacities.  This 
machinery  does  not  manipulate  itself.  It  has  to  be 
directed,  controlled  and  looked  after  by  human  be- 
ings. And  it  is  desirable,  from  the  standpoint  of 
social  well-being,  that  the  men  and  women  con- 
cerned with  this  industry  should  find  it  a  means  of 
satisfying  as  many  of  their  human  needs  as  possible. 
The  industry  must  provide  room  for  interest,  for  in- 
ventiveness, for  self-expression,  for  all  those  things 
that  make  work  a  parcel  of  enjoyable  life  rather 
than  a  mechanical  drudgery.  To  achieve  this  in- 
volves first,  an  industrial  democratic  organization, 
and  second,  educational  facilities  within  the  sphere 
of  the  industry — an  educational  setting  that  will 
tend  to  make  the  industry  self -sufficient  from  the 
inventive  and  technical  and  artistic  point  of  view. 
The  industry  thus  becomes  in  reality  a  mechanical 
arrangement  which  serves  an  industrial  purpose,  but 


LABOR  AND  EDUCATION  247 

which  at  the  same  time  and  with  equal  importance 
provides  means  and  setting  for  development  in  in- 
genuity and  art. 

In  industrial  democracy  the  industry  is  assumed 
as  the  unit.  The  individual  enters  an  industry  when 
of  age  and  becomes  an  industrial  citizen.  He  does 
not  enter  to  learn  a  specific  trade.  He  enters  as  an 
apprentice  in  the  industry.  The  organized  indus- 
trial unit  of  which  he  becomes  a  cooperating  ele- 
ment makes  provision  for  his  training — a  training 
that  tends  to  give  him  an  appreciation  of  the  whole 
industry  of  which  he  is  now  a  member.  The  actual 
work  that  he  finally  does,  the  definite  reponsibility 
that  he  will  finally  be  privileged  to  exercise,  will 
depend  upon  his  aptitude,  his  specific  interest,  his 
ability,  his  age  and  service,  and  his  standing  with 
the  rest  of  his  fellow  workers.  Industrial  democ- 
racy means  spiritual  growth  in  terms  of  industrial 
citizenship.  It  means  opportunity  for  service  flex- 
ibly adjusted  to  needs,  possibilities  and  abilities. 
It  means  making  work  a  creative  experience  and 
participation  in  industry  a  spiritual  adventure.  At 
least  that  is  what  industrial  democracy  must  mean  if 
it  is  to  satisfy  the  requirements  of  human  growth, 
interest  and  sociability,  and  it  is  clear  that  it  can 
mean  that  not  only  as  a  consequence  of  freedom  in, 
but  also  of  education  in,  industry. 

This  education  in  full  cannot  be  developed  until 
the  greater  part  of  the  capitalist  mastery  of  indus- 
try has  been  relinquished  and  the  worker  has  ac- 
quired greater  powers  of  direction  and  regulation. 
A  start  in  education,  however,  must  be  made  im- 


248  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

mediately  if  this  working-class  control  over  indus- 
try is  to  be  hastened,  if  it  is  to  avoid  the  friction  that 
must  come  from  ignorance,  and  if  it  is  to  prepare 
the  workers  for  that  seemingly  inevitable  day  of 
mastery. 

The  educational  program  described  here  is  in  fact 
being  formulated  and  developed  by  a  number  of 
agencies  in  the  field  of  labor.  The  English  labor 
unions  are  currently  facing  the  problem,  and  the 
labor  college  in  London  is  being  reorganized  to  meet 
these  ends.  More  important  than  this,  however, 
is  the  development  of  the  shop-steward  movement, 
the  Whitley  Council,  and  the  worker's  representa- 
tives organizations.  Whatever  the  purpose  of  these 
organizations,  their  main  consequence  is  to  give  the 
workers  a  sense  of  confidence  as  well  as  a  sense  of 
the  difficulties  involved  in  industry.  They  may  for 
the  time  being  serve  the  purposes  of  greater  har- 
mony in  any  individual  shop  between  the  workers 
and  the  employer,  but  they  certainly  give  the  work- 
ers that  mental  bent  which  makes  the  industry  in- 
creasingly their  industry  in  the  sense  that  they 
become  more  fully  appreciative  of  the  technique  and 
control  involved.  The  employers  are  thus  in  an 
important  way  contributing  to  the  education  which 
seems  ultimately  bound  to  serve  the  purposes  of  in- 
dustrial democracy.  It  is  from  this  point  of  view 
that  the  labor  movement's  adventures  in  decentral- 
ized councils  are  contributory  to  the  apparent  goal 
of  the  labor  movement — industrial  democracy. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

EDUCATIONAL  REORGANIZATION 

DUCATIONAL  reorganization  is  a  constant 
process,  it  is  one  aspect  of  social  phenomena 
which  is  always  in  a  fluid  state.  This  is  as  it  should 
be,  for  beyond  all  other  activities  of  the  community 
the  educational  process  is  a  reflex  of  the  communi- 
ty's ideology  and  technique.  The  history  of  educa- 
tion mirrors  the  growth  of  the  human  mind,  its  out- 
look upon  life,  its  concepts  of  duty  and  responsibili- 
ty, probably  in  a  more  definite  way  than  do  all  other 
social  phenomena.  Every  age  has  carried  with  itself 
an  educational  process  peculiarly  molded  to  meet  its 
own  problems.  This  education  in  its  conscious, 
deliberate  and  purposeful  method  as  well  as  in  its 
more  subtle,  unconscious  and  persuasive  pressure 
has  generally  adjusted  itself  to  the  peculiar  needs 
of  the  community  in  which  it  developed.  In 
periods  of  rapid  social  change,  educational  theories 
and  method  reflect  the  unsettled  state  of  the  com- 
munity by  being  in  a  highly  transitional  and  varied 
state. 

The  present  educational  situation  reflects  the  un- 
settled character  of  society.     Probably  at  no  other 

249 


250  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

time  have  there  been  so  many  theories  of  education 
and  so  many  attempts  at  putting  these  various 
theories  into  practice.  This  situation  in  the  educa- 
tional world  indicates  the  fact  that  with  the  reor- 
ganization of  society  implied  by  the  labor  move- 
ment there  will  naturally  develop  a  new  and  different 
educational  system.  What  this  educational  system 
will  be  may  be  determined  best  by  an  analysis 
of  some  of  the  implications  of  the  labor  movement, 
for  it  is  the  labor  movement  which  lies  at  the  root 
of  the  social  changes  now  taking  place. 

The  labor  movement  carries  with  itself  two  basic 
factors  which  characterize  all  its  important  contribu- 
tions. These  are  work  and  cooperation.  One 
might  summarize  all  or  nearly  all  of  the  contri- 
butions of  the  labor  movement  in  these  two  words. 
Work  is  the  basis  of  citizenship  in  the  labor  com- 
munity. It  is  the  condition  of  privilege,  of  power, 
and  the  source  of  its  peculiar  significance  in  the 
world.  Cooperation  is  the  method,  the  technique 
through  which  these  new  values  and  the  newer  social 
organization  are  being  achieved.  Not  only  are  these 
two  elements  the  groundwork  of  the  structure  of  the 
labor  movement  but  they  must  obviously  remain 
the  bases  upon  which  any  social  democracy  can  be 
built  by  the  labor  movement.  It  is  not  only  the 
present  method  of  procedure,  but  it  is  apparently 
destined  to  remain  the  source  of  future  community 
organization  if  the  future  is  to  be  a  non-competitive 
grouping  of  men  and  women  for  purposes  of 
social  well-being.  Education,  therefore,  in  its  re- 
construction will  undoubtedly  have  to  embody  these 


EDUCATIONAL  REORGANIZATION  251 

new  values.  It  will  have  to  make  work  and  coopera- 
tion an  important  part  not  only  of  its  ideological 
attitude  but  also  of  its  technique.  It  will  have  to 
make  work  and  cooperation  not  only  something  to 
be  implanted  in  the  minds  of  the  young  as  a  goal 
to  be  striven  for  but  as  part  and  parcel  of  the 
actual  everyday  process  of  education. 

The  essentials  of  community  organization  as  it 
affects  education  will  in  a  democratic  community 
demand  certain  specific  changes  which  may  be  easily 
forecast.  Education  would  have  to  be  universal. 
It  would  have  to  be  compulsory,  and  it  would  cer- 
tainly be  more  comprehensive  in  point  of  time  for 
the  mass  of  the  people  than  it  is  at  present.  It  is 
fairly  safe  to  assume  that  all  of  the  youth  would 
be  required  to  attend  school  until  the  age  of  eighteen 
at  least.  In  fact,  we  are  already  witnessing  a  very 
pronounceed  trend  in  the  direction  of  lengthening 
the  years  of  education  for  a  constantly  greater 
portion  of  our  youth.  I  am  referring  not  only  to 
high  school  education  and  increasing  college  at- 
tendance but  also  to  the  numerous  extension  schools 
which  draw  upon  a  considerable  portion  of  the 
community  and  contribute  to  the  greater  growth  of 
better  educated  people.  Such  a  social  organization 
would  insist  that  its  youth  be  given  the  best  possible 
preparation  for  the  manifold  problems  implied  in  an 
industrial  democracy  in  which  responsibility  would 
be  highly  decentralized.  While  it  is  easy  to  predict 
the  extent  of  the  educational  demands  in  such  a 
community,  it  is  not  quite  sufficient.  We  must  do 
more  than  say  that  the  future  will  see  more  extensive 


252  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

training  of  the  youth.  That  is  commonplace  and 
would  not  require  repetition  here.  We  must  suggest 
the  kind  of  education  that  would  probably  be  called 
forth  under  the  conditions  suggested,  even  if  the 
prediction  is  a  hazardous  undertaking.  The  rest  of 
the  chapter  is  therefore  an  attempt,  in  the  main, 
to  develop  the  technique  and  suggest  the  spirit  which 
would  probably  govern  the  educational  process. 

In  a  general  way  the  basic  relationships  of  the 
human  being  may  be  separated  into  four  elements, 
the  physical,  the  mechanical,  the  civic  and  the  cul- 
tural. The  human  being  has  a  body  which  requires 
care.  This  is  the  first  and  basic  fact  about  him. 
Unfortunately,  education  has  been  chiefly  concerned 
with  things  of  the  spirit.  The  body  has  by  philo- 
sophical implication  and  religious  teaching  been 
relegated  to  the  background  as  a  thing  of  little  sig- 
nificance. In  fact,  the  body  has  been  considered  a 
kind  of  hindrance  to  the  spirit — a  necessary  evil — 
something  to  which  wise  men  gave  little  attention. 
In  so  far  as  education  as  a  historical  matter  has  con- 
cerned itself  with  the  body  at  all,  it  has  been  as  a  sub- 
ject for  the  moralist  rather  than  for  the  scientist  to 
deal  with.  The  problem  at  hand  has  been  described 
as  one  of  control,  of  self-mastery,  of  suppression 
and  denial  of  the  needs  of  the  bodily  organs.  While 
all  of  this  has  a  place  in  education,  it  is  not  its  prime 
or  first  consideration.  Control,  direction  and  mas- 
tery must  be  based  upon  other  things  than  moral 
pre-conception.  It  must  have  knowledge,  the  de- 
tailed and  definite  information  of  bodily  structure 
and  conditions  of  health  as  its  basis.  There  has 


EDUCATIONAL  REORGANIZATION  253 

recently  developed  a  definite  tendency  in  the  direc- 
tion of  giving  hygienic  and  physiological  informa- 
tion. But  this  tendency  has  too  often  the  character 
of  being  an  addition  to  the  program  rather  than  its 
first  consideration.  We  must  simply  come  to  un- 
derstand that  physical  health  and  well-being  are  the 
first  considerations  in  any  educational  system  and 
mold  our  curriculum  accordingly.  The  recent 
attempt  to  turn  physical  education  to  military  ends 
is  a  complete  denial  of  all  the  purposes  of  early  train- 
ing in  health  and  hygiene.  This  training  should  not 
be  for  the  purpose  of  making  good  soldiers  but  of 
making  clean,  healthy,  self -knowing  men  and  wo- 
men— people  who  will  be  good  soldiers  if  they  have 
to  but  who  will  first  be  healthy,  vigorous  and  ener- 
getic citizens  of  a  democratic  community. 

The  second  consideration  with  which  education 
must  be  concerned  is  the  simple  fact  that  the  human 
being  lives  in  a  material  world.  Education  too 
often  seems  to  forget  that  simple  fact.  It  proceeds 
as  if  man  lived  in  a  vacuum.  In  fact,  the  hard 
physical  basis — the  dirt  and  the  work,  the  stones  and 
the  tools  of  the  world — things  which  condition 
everything  the  student  does  and  is,  is  overlooked  to 
an  extraordinary  degree.  The  suggestion  for  any 
early  acquaintance  with  the  material  world  does  not 
lie  in  the  demand  for  the  early  development  of 
technicians  and  specialists,  but  rather  in  the  con- 
viction that  all  men  and  women  should  acquire  some 
acquaintance  with  the  material  and  physical  world 
about  them.  The  handling  of  tools,  the  manipula- 
tion of  physical  things,  the  participation  in  the  up- 


254  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

keep  of  the  material  world  or  in  the  molding  of 
the  natural  forces  upon  which  life  depends  develops 
a  sense  of  contact  with  the  world  and  its  problems 
which  nothing  else  can  provide. 

It  is  not  the  learning  of  a  trade  or  the  acquaint- 
ance with  the  peculiar  qualities  of  some  of  the 
materials  and  tools  used,  but  rather  influence  of  this 
upon  the  mind  which  gives  such  early  training  its 
significance.  It  contributes  a  nervous  stimulus,  a 
qualitative  tone,  a  sense  of  relativity,  a  feeling  of  de- 
pendence upon  the  world's  resources,  and  a  sense  of 
the  incompleteness  of  things  which  no  other  experi- 
ence can  provide  in  the  same  degree.  The  milking  of 
a  cow,  the  following  of  a  plow,  the  planting  of  pota- 
toes, the  roofing  of  a  house,  the  felling  of  a  tree 
in  the  woods,  the  painting  of  a  barn  or  the  digging 
of  a  ditch  for  a  water  pipe,  will  give  the  young 
person  who  does  it  a  sense  of  self-assurance,  of 
readiness  to  face  hardship,  of  willingness  to  do  the 
work  of  the  world,  that  constitutes  a  basic  contri- 
bution to  the  growth  of  character  and  responsibility. 
The  ideal  of  youthful  training  in  a  fluctuating  and 
changing  world  is  not  early  standardization  and 
specialization  but  rather  the  development  of  a 
rounded  and  complete  individual  capable  of  adapta- 
tion to  any  specific  function  with  the  least  amount 
of  friction  and  effort.  The  early  industrial  edu- 
cation should  have  for  its  aim  the  development  of 
aptitude,  the  teaching  of  method  and  the  inculca- 
tion of  general  principles.  The  educational  process 
should,  as  far  as  possible,  consist  in  the  doing  of  the 
actual  and  the  performance  of  those  things  that  are 


EDUCATIONAL  REORGANIZATION  255 

obviously  useful.  The  aim  should  not  be  to  spec- 
ialize but  to  give  a  rounded  appreciation  of  the 
material  world  and  a  sense  of  the  background  of  all 
personal  and  social  existence. 

The  civic  education  which  we  have  in  mind  is 
something  different  from  what  the  ordinary  course 
in  civics  attempts  to  achieve.  It  is  not  a  training 
in  the  forms  and  formulae  of  political  government 
but  an  attempt  to  make  vivid  through  personal  con- 
tact and  association  the  fact  that  a  human  being  is 
primarily  a  social  animal  whose  very  existence  de- 
pends upon  group  activity  and  cooperation.  In  a 
democratic  community,  cooperation  for  social  good 
would  be  the  basis  as  well  as  the  end  of  the  greater 
part  of  community  activity;  it  is  the  technique,  the 
habit,  the  sense  of  give  and  take,  of  subordination  of 
self  to  majority  rule  and  opinion,  of  harmonizing 
individual  idiosyncracies,  of  achieving  a  sense  of 
civic  responsibility,  that  we  have  in  mind  when  we 
speak  of  civic  education.  This  cannot  be  achieved 
through  ordinary  textbook  instruction  or  classroom 
method.  It  must  come  through  cooperation  in  the 
educational  process,  in  the  carrying  out  of  some 
common  purpose  and  in  work  involving  group 
responsibility.  Those  boys  who  get  this  from 
present-day  schools  acquire  it  not  as  a  result  of 
taking  courses  in  civics  but  from  extra-collegiate 
activity  such  as  running  a  college  newspaper,  playing 
upon  a  college  foot-ball  team,  and  other  activities 
requiring  group  function.  It  is  along  the  extension 
of  these  activities,  both  in  making  them  more  general 
so  as  to  include  the  whole  student  body,  as  well  as 


256  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

in  making  the  group  activity  center  in  some  work 
that  will  have  a  useful  purpose,  that  civic  training 
would  find  its  best  results. 

The  cultural  and  the  personal  development  of  the 
individual  which  is  the  highest  fruit  of  educa- 
tion need  not  be  changed  much  in  outline,  although  it 
would  naturally  undergo  a  change  in  spirit  in  a 
world  of  education  that  was  democratic. 

We  have  divided  the  function  and  the  problem  of 
education  into  four  separate  parts.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  however,  they  can  only  be  divided  metaphysi- 
cally. Life  is  a  unit.  The  cultural,  the  physical, 
the  mechanical  and  the  civic  are  all  interwoven,  and 
only  function  and  operate  as  a  unit.  What  is 
more,  they  operate  unconsciously  in  their  divisions. 
Man  brings  all  of  his  nature  to  bear  upon  any 
specific  function,  and  education  ought  to  be  a  unit. 
Education  should  be  a  part  of  living  and  should  be 
an  unconscious  assimilation  rather  than  a  conscious 
study  and  cramming. 

There  is  only  one  way  of  achieving  this  ideal  in 
method,  and  that  is  by  reducing  education  in  pro- 
cedure to  the  democratic  approach  and  in  school 
organization  to  the  community  group.  Every  school 
is  a  little  community  with  problems  of  cooperation, 
amusement,  physical  upkeep,  hygenic  needs  and 
social  responsibility.  The  school  ought  to  be  organ- 
ized so  as  to  make  possible  the  handling  of  all  of 
these  problems  by  the  school  community  as  a  unit. 
The  greater  part  of  both  the  physical  and  mechan- 
ical, the  civic  and  the  cultural  parts  should  come  as 
a  result  of  dealing  with  the  problems  of  the  com- 


EDUCATIONAL  REORGANIZATION  257 

munity,  the  determination  of  which  should  be  the 
responsibility  of  all  the  members,  the  students  as 
well  as  the  teachers.  Obviously  an  organization  of 
the  school  which  would  concern  itself  with  the  hand- 
ling of  these  problems  through  discussion,  sugges- 
tions and  group  activity  would  contribute  to  the 
development  of  initiative,  self-reliance  and  sense 
of  responsibility.  If  the  teachers  and  students 
would  meet  as  equals  in  the  physical  upkeep  and  in 
the  social  functioning  of  the  school;  if  children 
would  learn  electricity  by  fixing  the  lights,  chemistry 
by  mixing  paint,  and  physics  by  operating  engines; 
if  the  teachers  and  the  students  were  working  as 
equals,  we  should  have  the  conditions  for  the  devel- 
opment of  the  democratic  technique,  leadership  going 
to  those  who  had  the  skill,  the  ability  and  the  confi- 
dence of  the  group.  In  such  an  atmosphere  school- 
ing and  its  consequences  would  be  something  differ- 
ent from  what  it  is. 

There  are  certain  elements  in  education,  like  his- 
tory, chemistry  and  physiology,  which  would  strain 
the  democratic  method.  Just  because  of  that  it 
ought  to  be  of  the  greatest  benefit  to  both  the 
student  and  the  teacher  to  meet  on  a  basis  of  equal- 
ity in  other  activities.  Just  because  their  training, 
ideals,  age,  point  of  view  and  ends  in  life  were  dif- 
ferent, this  close  association  ought  to  prove  of  im- 
mense value  spiritually  and  make  both  teaching  and 
learning  a  much  more  exhilarating  and  joyous  ex- 
perience than  the  present  dogmatic  school  methods 
make  possible. 

It  would  turn  out  men  and  women  who  had  a 


258  THE  LABOR  MOVEMENT 

sense  of  cooperation  and  of  community  responsi- 
bility. It  would  produce  men  and  women  who  had 
learned  how  to  work  together,  who  knew  something 
of  comradeship,  something  of  the  difficulties  of 
cooperation,  who  would  have  learned  to  sink  per- 
sonal differences,  who  would  have  exercised  leader- 
ship and  initiative  and  shown  personal  interest  in 
community  problems.  In  addition  to  all  of  these  it 
would  have  broken  down  the  snobbishness  that 
comes  from  avoidance  of  physical  labor  and  is  de- 
moralizing both  the  teachers  and  the  students.  All 
of  the  professors  would  be  better  for  having  done 
some  physical  work  and  for  having  accepted  group 
control  in  some  of  their  activities,  while  all  of  the 
students  would  be  more  interested  pupils,  better  men 
and  women  for  having  had  intimate  and  equal  re- 
lationships and  responsibility  with  their  teachers. 

This  universal  educational  system  would  demand 
a  heavy  outlay.  However,  it  would  become  the 
basis  of  such  a  widespread  and  intelligent  interest  in 
the  problems  of  the  community  that  the  cost  would 
be  but  a  small  investment  for  the  profound  social- 
izing consequence  of  such  an  educational  system. 
One  might  suggest  here  with  William  James  that 
the  youth  educated  by  the  community  might  well  be 
given  the  exhilarating  experience  of  doing  some  of 
the  essential  tasks  of  the  community  while  still 
under  school  influence.  It  would  be  possible  and 
probably  highly  desirable  to  take  this  youth  and  put 
him  to  work  upon  some  of  the  large-scale  needs  con- 
fronting society.  These  young  men,  under  demo- 
cratic organization,  might  very  well  be  put  to  the 


EDUCATIONAL  REORGANIZATION  259 

work  of  building  our  roads,  tunneling  our  mount- 
ains and  reforesting  our  hills.  Two  years  service 
under  those  conditions  with  the  group  democratically 
organized,  carrying  out  the  community's  purposes 
as  far  as  possible  under  its  own  leadership,  would 
but  be  a  continuation  of  the  schooling  which  they 
had  received.  And  why  not?  Why  should  all  the 
hard,  laborious  work  go  to  older  men,  rather  than  to 
the  vigorous,  strong  and  enterprising  youth  who 
could  find  joy  in  contributing  towards  beautifying 
and  improving  the  world  they  live  in?  After  such 
training  men,  could  and  would  enter  an  industry  of 
their  choosing  with  a  spirit  and  an  energy  that 
would  transform  the  present  world  as  if  with  the 
hand  of  a  magician. 


APR  1 5 


DATE  DUE 


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PRINTED  IN  U.S.A. 


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